


silverheart

by ssuppositiouss



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Dragon Klance Big Bang 2017, M/M, Magic, Slow Burn, Vampire Hunter Keith, Vampire Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssuppositiouss/pseuds/ssuppositiouss
Summary: Lance is a Vampire, but not by choice, and he’ll do whatever it takes to find a way back to humanity. Keith is an ex-Hunter who will stop at nothing to find his friend, who he's sure has been kidnapped by a coven of Vampires calling themselves the Galra. Though they have their differences, their goals end up converging and they’re going to need to work together to get out of the trouble that can’t help but find them.fic for the Klance Big Bang 2017





	1. change

**Author's Note:**

> oh goodness this work is a self-indulgent combination of my love for bloody vampire fanfic and klance, but i hope you like it!! working with [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com) on tumblr for the Klance Big Bang 2017 has been the greatest experience pls show all your love to her and the magnificent art she's created for this silly fic

**there have been (will be) better days**

It _hurts_. He’s hungry, he's so _fucking_ hungry. His vessels feel empty, twisting inside him, drained and drying and tearing his life away. Everything is squeezing, suffocating, _burning_ , it hurts it hurts it _hurts_.

It’s like he’s back in the first cell, Human again, trapped, pinned like the specimen he was, their sad little experiment.

(He’d wanted to die, then. How long until he feels that way again? That death is much better than this life?)

He hears the screech of the door opening, and he forces his head upward, forces his eyes to focus on the woman entering though he wants nothing more than to fade to impossible unconsciousness. His senses are heightened by his desperation, and he’s ready to pounce on her, tear her apart, _destroy her_ , if not for the fact that he’s chained to the wall, hanging ever so slightly above the ground so the pull on his muscles causes him more pain.

He isn’t like this, he’s not this kind of person. He’s a Vampire but he doesn’t want to be. He’s not a murderer.

("Don't think like that, you're more than this," Keith whispered to him, before all of this.)

But he’s so _hungry_.

How long has he been here this time?

He’s so hungry.

His heart is racing. If he could just break free of these chains. If he could just. . . He knows, though, he wouldn’t have been able to break them even if he were at peak strength: they’re made of pure silver.

But if he can break free, then he’s only a few steps from killing this woman. He can snap her neck in seconds, drain her of enough blood to restore his strength, then sprint out and track Keith by his scent.

He’d probably only run into a few people. They’d be easy enough kills when the promise of Keith’s blood awaits him, when the promise of real healing and power and strength is so _close_.

It would be so easy.

But, of course, it’s not that easy. He can't kill anyone, even though he's a Vampire. And he hates being here. Every time he closes his eyes he’s thrown back to the first time he was chained and starving and neglected. They freed him (or did he escape) because he was a failure, and now he’s back again.

He wants to forget.

“Lance of Earth,” she murmurs, a smirk pulling at her lips. Her laugh is cold, and despite its softness, it echoes through the cell. “You came back to us bearing an Immortal gift.”

Lance lunges at her, fangs bared, forced backward immediately by the chains, the silver digging into his wrists and searing his skin like acid.

If his arms weren’t immobilized, if he wasn’t being held back, he’d _snap her neck_.

(He wouldn't.)

“He’s just so. . . _receptive_ to everyone drinking their share.” Lance can’t stop the mental image of Keith baring his neck, of Keith breathing heavy and dazed, body warm, eyes glassed over, beautiful, delicious coppery blood flowing to supply eager, greedy, desperate mouths. Lips that aren’t his. Blood not meant for him.

If only he'd been strong enough to undo the Compulsion. If only—

Something _ugly_ churns inside him, and he tries again to grab her, to bite her, to make her _feel_ how tired and _hungry_ and _pained_ he is.

He’s so hungry.

“His blood can strengthen our armies, further our research. It's so much better than if we'd done the experiment ourselves.”

 _No_! Lance remembers how easily they had fallen in the caves when Sendak had sampled just a small sip of Keith’s blood. It’s short-lived, sure, but his blood is like a drug. It would be enough to easily destroy Altea, easily destroy Earth, if the Galra can figure out how to replicate the magical quality that makes it what it is. What other experiments will they be able to do, with such a potent healing ability at hand?

It’s such a wonderful, terrible, ironic Immortal power.

“But,” her smirk turns sadistic, and though Lance cannot see her eyes underneath her dark hood, he can feel the contempt and curiosity in her gaze, “we need to _test_ this power first.”

 _—he remembers being chained back, forced to drink the contents of those vials because he had nothing else and he’s so hungry it's been days or months or however long he doesn't know, his insides are burning freezing_ burning _because it wasn’t enough it could never be enough the fucking experiment is a failure make it_ stop _he’s so hungry and he doesn’t want this life they’re forcing him—_

She pulls a small vial from her sleeve. At first Lance doesn’t know what’s in it. It’s just a dark liquid, barely a few drops inside. He thinks, blearily, that it might be another vial like he’d had in the past. Fake blood. Animal blood. Vampire blood. He knows from experience it won’t sate him, but it would be enough to keep him _painfully_ alive.

Just as he had, then, he doesn’t know which fate is worse.

Then she opens it. The scent isn’t that strong, probably, but to Lance it always has been, and in Lance’s desperate state, it is the most powerful scent he’s ever inhaled.

Inside that vial is Keith’s blood.

And he’s so hungry.

The dark red of the blood inside is so _tempting_. He’s starving, he wants it, he _needs_ it, he _has to have it_. She lets just one drop fall before corking the vial again, and Lance swears he can hear the drop of blood splashing against the stone floor. The liquid would have been enough to replenish him, he’s sure. The smell alone is enough to make Lance’s stomach twist and his knees weak and he wants to pull from the wall and lick up that stupid drop of Keith’s stupid delicious amazing _tantalizing_ blood.

It would be worth it. Just to taste that blood again.

“If you’re starved and on the brink of death,” Lance lets out a pitiful whine (and he’s disgusted at himself, he hates that he’s made such a sound, he’s showing so much _weakness_ but right now he's weak weak weak) as she turns and walks away, “how little of this Immortal’s blood is needed to save you?”

Keith’s single drop of blood haunts him. The door slams shut, and Lance is in darkness once again.

* * *

The weather is cloudy and gray. It’s exactly the dreary kind of day that Human Lance hated, for making everything dark and making everyone hide away when they could’ve been out and enjoying the sunshine and warmth, reveling in being alive. It’s exactly the dreary kind of day that a Vampire needs in order to travel in the daytime and eventually return to a hidden shack at a reasonable hour. It's so gray the sun isn't out, so the light causes irritated itching and skin peeling that he's sure will heal once they're home. He'll be tired without blood to speed the process, but that will fade soon enough.

He’s thankful that Hunk, who is sort of awful at the fighting part of being a Hunter, is amazing at just about everything else—navigating, building weapons, tracking Vampires. Without Hunk (and the scent of his blood) Lance often has to run around the woods, retracing his steps until he can relocate the shack. Hunk has the survival skills to find the place again easily.

Now though, Hunk worries that the slight drizzle of rain and heavy clouds aren’t enough to shield Lance from the sun (though Lance is wearing his long-sleeved jacket and his hood is up), and he vocalizes his thoughts frequently as they make their way out of the forest to the village not too far from the border of Altea.

It’s nice to see the village again. It looks the same as it always has, old and colorful buildings lining the streets, a winding dirt path, more and more people the further they travel.

After Turning into a Vampire, Lance has been staying away from civilization and people and anything that could vaguely remind him of Human life (except Hunk, he could never forget Hunk). But now, freshly fed and damp from the light rain, he’s taking baby steps to show Hunk that he doesn’t have to give up his life to hide out with Lance. So Hunk can move out and move on.

(Without Lance.)

“If the sun starts coming out, I’ll protect you, Lance,” Hunk says, glancing at the sky for the hundredth time. “I’ll shield you in a hug!”

Lance laughs and wraps an arm around Hunk’s shoulders, playfully resting all his weight on Hunk—though he’s careful to not exert too much strength and inadvertently hurt him. “You’re the best friend anyone could ask for.”

Hunk’s stomach chooses that moment to grumble, and they both laugh. Lance’s own stomach churns. He’d just taken some of Hunk’s blood, so he’s fed for now. Blood lasts a few days in his system before he feels weak, so long as he doesn't use any of his Vampire skills.

“I have some coins left.” Lance digs through his pockets and pulls out the little money he hadn’t spent while he’d still been a student at the Garrison. “It’s not like I need money for anything.”

“Dude, it’s fine.” Hunk points at a shop. Its windows are bright and open, the paint on the outside peeling but still cheerful. A small child sits on the steps in front of the shop, and Lance thinks of his nieces, the ones he will never again see. He wonders how they're doing, if Veronica is spoiling them the way she spoiled him. “I’ll just grab something and we can—”

“I’ll wait outside.”

He can’t even go inside unless someone invites him in, and it’ll look suspicious if he has Hunk do it. It’s become a social habit to not say anything and see if guests can enter on their own. He grew up with that idea implanted in his head.

(When they first found their shack in the woods, Hunk had joked about never inviting Lance in, and, honestly, it's a pretty good threat for any non-hostile Vampires.)

Hunk looks sad. “I mean. . .”

“I like being outside! I barely get to be out in the sun anymore!” Lance smiles as wide as he can, his fangs glistening, until he sees Hunk’s expression lighten. He doesn’t like to smile like this, but the sense of normalcy is something of a relief to Hunk, so he does it when the need arises. Inside the shop, a family is laughing. “Let me appreciate this before you have to hug me to death!”

“Okay, okay.” Lance hands him the money. “I’ll be quick!”

He knows he has fangs and sometimes his eyes glow red (Hunk had freaked out when Lance had first bitten him, not because of the blood-drinking itself since the venom can make the experience more than pleasant, but because his eyes were ‘demonic’), and his skin is still the same golden brown he’s always been, not the slightest bit paler. Perhaps, with time and lack of sunshine, he will soon look as ashen as the older Vampires. He’s always been proud of his skin, its color and feel and the care he placed in maintaining his appearance, and he hopes he won’t lose himself.

His skin aches now, like it used to burn if he went in the sun for too long and the skin would peel. It never hurt this much, then.

Hunk is as fast as he promised. Lance barely has time to stew in his own thoughts before Hunk is out of the shop again, a sandwich in his hands.

“I hope this tastes as good as it smells!”

Lance pointedly looks away. It doesn’t smell good to Lance at all, not the way Hunk’s blood does (the faint scent rushing underneath his skin, his skin is so delicate it’s so easy to tear into and so easy to _drink_ ).

He doesn’t know how to bring up to Hunk that he doesn’t want them to travel together anymore. Hunk has been nothing but amazing to Lance since stumbling upon him unable to enter the Garrison, but he knows that he’s keeping Hunk from his full potential.

Soon. Soon he’ll leave Hunk and go to Altea and fix everything.

(He hopes.)

“Are you still writing to that Altean pen pal of yours?” Lance offers, unable to bear the silence, the guilt gnawing at him.

“Rax is Balmeran, technically,” Hunk says, swallowing some of his sandwich. “Altea is just a conglomeration of different territories that weren’t able to rebuild after the Daibazaal mess. That’s a direct Pidge quote, by the way. I don’t know if there are any real ‘Alteans’ left.”

“You know I hated history class,” Lance whines playfully, quick to continue the new conversation topic. “What Daibazaal mess?”

Hunk shakes his head. “You know, the whole ‘original Vampires’ ordeal? The first Vampires to use Immortals as their ‘partners?’” When Lance doesn’t react, Hunk continues, “The people taking over different territories? Part of the reason the Garrison exists? The land of the Galra?”

Lance’s heart skips a beat at the mention of the Galra. He feels like vomiting, though there’s nothing inside him to lose. “What?”

Hunk steers Lance carefully past a church, though religious symbols don’t actually affect all Vampires (it’s probably a good myth to put to rest, but Lance isn’t about to contact the Garrison about it, and he doesn’t know how it affects other Vampires, he thinks it has more to do with his own beliefs and the beliefs of the people who brandish the symbols like weapons). “The Galra are just some fanatical Vampires, I think. Nothing I’ve read talks much about them.”

“What makes them fanatical?” Lance doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to drag Hunk into this, but he can’t help his own curiosity, his need for answers about his new life.

Hunk bites his lip, pausing in his eating. “Why are you so curious? I thought you didn’t like history.” Lance can already see the thoughtful, suspicious look on Hunk’s face. Lance has been purposely silent about what happened to make him the way he is now, but Hunk’s too smart for his own good, and Lance _really_ doesn’t want to get Hunk involved.

“I met someone when I was coming back here,” Lance lies, carefully. “I didn’t think she was. . .”

All of Hunk’s suspicion evaporates. “A girl,” he says slowly, then shakes his head. “If she’s anything like your other choices. . . Your taste is a bit. . .” They both make faces at the wording, then at the thought of some of Lance’s past relationship experiences. “I don’t know a lot about the Galra, but ever since Rax stopped responding I started writing to Pidge. And she’s _way_ more fun to talk to, by the way. She might know more.”

“What’s a _Pidge_?”

“Maybe the name is an Altean thing?” Hunk shrugs. “I can write to her and ask about it, if it’s bothering you that much. Pidge already mentioned ways she thinks Vampires can get into Altea, I'm sure she knows about the Galra.”

“I’m a _great_ judge of character, Hunk,” Lance says, pulling the conversation in a different direction. He's careful not to show how his heart has skipped beats at the idea. A Vampire can get into Altea.  _He_ can get into Altea.

The gears of his mind are already spinning. If he can get his hands on one of the letters between Hunk and Pidge, he’ll be able to enter Altea, and he'll know where to go to find her once he's there. She can give him the information he needs about Altea, and once he finds the princess, he can make her _change him back_.

There are numerous Immortals with strong magics in Altea. The current princess has an immense magic of her own, and the Alteans might _know_ something. They might be able to help him.

They  _have_ to be able to help him.

Hunk snorts. “Please. You’re, like, the worst judge of character. You were into _Nyma_.”

“She has pretty eyes!”

“You liked _Rolo_ after she stood you up! She stood you up _for_ Rolo!”

“I moved on, what can I say?” Lance waggles his eyebrows until Hunk’s smile reaches his eyes.

“But Rolo was. . ." He sighs. "Lance, you haven’t changed as much as you think.” Hunk's smile is much gentler, his expression just fond. “You’re still my best friend.”

Lance’s heart twists. He feels like he’s lying to Hunk, who’s both been maintaining his Vampirism by feeding him but also keeping Lance’s humanity intact with his friendship. He really doesn’t know what he would do without Hunk.

But he has changed. He has dark, hungry, uncontrollable thoughts. His fingers, his fangs, so desperately desire sinking into the flower petal flesh of a soft, pretty human and—

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Lance reaches to Hunk and pulls him into a hug. He minds his strength, so he doesn't hurt his best friend. He thinks he'd hurt Hunk more if Hunk has to support a wild fantasy of getting into Altea and becoming Human again. “Don’t you have to protect me from the sun right now?”

“Right, right.” Hunk squeezes Lance into his hug. “Never change.”

Lance doesn’t know how Hunk thinks he’s still the same Lance he’s always been, when he isn’t. _Never change_ repeats in his head on a loop, a desperate plea to himself that he might still be able to stay himself. But he’s not Human anymore, he can’t show his face to his family, who he’s only ever wanted to protect from Vampires (and now, to protect them from Vampires, he’ll have to protect them from himself and so he’ll never see them again and they’ll never know what happened and it’s all for the best, he tells himself, it’s all for the best, but he writes his letters anyway).

Hunk doesn’t know what it was like to sneak back into the Garrison that night and think that everyone there smelled like a meal. He doesn’t know how much Lance has to resist digging his fangs deeper into Hunk’s throat, ripping through the skin, sucking everything away.

He forces these thoughts from his mind so regularly, puts up a face of being the same Lance. He’s not the same.

 _Never change_. But he already has.

* * *

Days later, Lance leaves the shack without Hunk. The sun has left the sky for several minutes, so he feels safe enough to leave.

School at the Garrison is starting again soon, and though Hunk hasn’t said anything (he’s too considerate, but Lance won’t let Hunk ruin his future especially when Lance doesn’t have a future and one day Hunk is going to need to move on when he realizes Lance isn’t going to age), Lance knows it’s something on both of their minds.

He thinks it’s time to start distancing himself from Hunk, so it’s that much easier for Hunk to go back without him.

It'll be lonely going to Altea by himself, but he's not about to drag Hunk into a potentially fruitless endeavor, as it might even be dangerous. Is he even going to go?

He doesn’t have a particular purpose for leaving the shack, other than giving Hunk some time to start packing his things for the Garrison. Maybe he’ll get some life skills in and practice dodging Hunters. He rarely, if ever, leaves the shack by himself, though this area of Earth isn't renowned for Vampire or Hunter activity because of its proximity to the Garrison.

(One day he’s going to need to learn to hunt for food himself. The thought is delicious and painful.)

Lance knows the Hunters tend to prowl where the Vampires do, and he’s made a point to avoid interacting with them ever since he’d been Turned. If he were still Human, he tells himself, he would’ve been a Hunter, the best one, he would’ve killed all of the Vampires and stopped the atrocities they committed from ever happening again.

But he’s not Human. And he’s too young to really know how to control these urges, especially since he isn’t supposed to be a Vampire and it’s not like there’s a school for being one. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so confused and hungry and desperate (and weak). He only knows the vague descriptions from textbooks.

The Garrison had taught him the methods of tracking and killing Vampires, so at the very least he knows their methods. He knows that Vampires, particularly the old ones like the fanatical  _Galra_ (and he hates hates _hates_ that he knows this), tend to toy with their prey before draining them of more blood than necessary. They're fanatical for reveling in what makes them different from Humans. There are Vampires who do not associate with the Galra, who take from the Bloodhouses, who store old blood and live without murder. There are Vampires in Daibazaal who aren't considered Galra, even, but it's much easier to avoid this truth than it is no acknowledge the possibility of decent Vampires existing.

He licks his lips. Something smells really good.

 _They're weak weak weak, but you will kill the prey and_ take _what you deserve._

The idea is both horrifying and tempting. His hands tremble and his heart races, and he wants to run wild and free and find a beautiful Human and sink his teeth into her fragile, pliant neck and fill himself with her warmth, her energy, her _life_ —

His vision is red for a moment, his mind lost in the daydream, and then he is pinned.

 _What_. . .

Something sharp presses against his neck, and he’s too confused by his mind's fantasy to understand what is happening. He’s pressed against a tree, the sharpness of the bark pressing against his back and making him squirm. _How_. . .

Then the Hunter speaks.

“Where’s your Coven?” Despite his low tone, his voice cracks when he talks, a sign of his voice’s disuse, and it sounds stupid and familiar enough to pull Lance out of his stupor. There’s a light breeze, the softest scent of a human with delicious, _tantalizing_  blood circulating under his thin paper skin. The nice smell was _this_?

Lance’s vision clears, the red fading from the edges, and as he blinks he’s faced with the prettiest violet eyes he’s ever seen.

He immediately shoves the Hunter away, Vampire strength easy to him.

He’s hungry and slightly weakened, sure, but he knows those eyes and he knows that hair and he’s. Stronger. Than. This. He’s a _Vampire_ , he can easily overpower a Hunter. Particularly _this_ one. Even if he’s still not used to his Vampiric urges and the idea of drinking a Human’s blood is enough to make him temporarily fall to this stupid Human, he’s stronger than this.

He’s stronger than this Hunter.

“ _Really_ , Keith?”

Keith, the strongest Hunter of their generation, the boy with so much promise, the boy who is going to single-handedly stop the Vampires, has the _audacity_ to look confused.

“How do you know my name?” Keith sneers, shifting into a more offensive stance. His movement carries the softest hint of his scent, and it’s horrifying how _delicious_ he smells. He didn’t _always_ smell this good!

Lance scowls, holds his breath. How the hell does this boy not remember? (How the _hell_ does this boy smell so _good_?) “We were in the same class!” he snaps. _I sat next to you for like four classes!_ _I used to flick paper at your hair to see how much could get lost in that stupid mullet!_

Good to know that Keith hasn’t changed at _all_. That asshole.

Lance feels the burn of anger fade slightly, and then he regrets snapping. He didn't want anyone to know he was a student at the Garrison once. He especially didn't want _Keith_ to know.

Keith was the _last_ person Lance thought he'd encounter.

Does Lance look like a Vampire? Has he changed? How is Keith even able to tell?

He doesn’t even know what he looks like anymore. He used to care so much for his skin, but he doesn’t have a fucking _reflection_ anymore so now he just does things blindly. Hunk tells him that he looks okay, but Hunk doesn’t know about beauty regimens, he doesn’t _understand_. Lance had been away for who knows how long, his skin is _ruined_!

Stupid _Keith_ gets to have a reflection, and he doesn’t even _try_ to keep his face looking decent. Appalling.

“Oh, uhh. . .” Keith looks away for a moment, considering, then he’s pointing the knife at Lance again. His gaze looks softer, his voice isn’t cruel. “You’re a Vampire.”

Like Lance needs the reminder. Hearing _Keith_ of all people say the fact aloud is enough to make his heart twist. He doesn’t want Keith’s _pity_. He doesn’t want this at all, and he’s stuck as the creature he’d trained to kill. He wanted (wants) to kill Vampires. His entire existence is an insult to Humanity; he literally has to kill to stay alive. He doesn’t need stupid, perfect _Human_ Keith reminding him of these things.

Of course, Keith wouldn’t know any of that. He’s too focused on training and fighting and being ridiculously good at everything he does even when he’s dropped out of the fucking Garrison. Meanwhile, Lance struggled through the skills everyone else deemed most important (the skills where Keith excels), so he had little to write home about when the time came to show what he'd learned.

(Now, in his letters, he needs to lie, so his family doesn't look for him.)

Lance is so hungry he almost wants to bite Keith, just to show him that he’s stronger, show that he can easily overpower Keith now. He just needs to wrap his hands around that pretty white neck and tilt his head to the side like. . . No. _No_.

The idea of biting into someone’s neck directly—after he’d bitten that first person and accidentally almost drained everything and completed his transformation—disgusts him.

His entire existence disgusts him.

He hasn’t fed in what feels like so _long_. He’s trying to give Hunk enough time to recover. He knows he can’t keep drinking all of his friend’s blood like this without killing him, but Hunk is too nice to say anything about it so Lance has to be the one to make sure he doesn’t go overboard. Control is. . . difficult.

He can’t keep doing this to Hunk. It’s been too long.

Hunk is probably worried about where Lance has gone. He should head back. He doesn’t even know why he’s out here, away from the makeshift home he’s made with Hunk, stuck interacting with _Keith_ of all people.

“Where is your Coven?” Keith demands again, and his voice doesn’t crack this time and he looks sort of threatening. The knife he has pressed against Lance’s neck digs deeper, pressing against his skin but not hard enough to break it.

They both know that the knife isn’t going to hurt Lance. Unless it’s plated with silver (it might be, since it stings more than he expected from a flimsy knife), the most it can do is disable him. Killing Vampires is much more difficult than it looks.

The fact that he’s underestimating Lance like this _really_ pisses him off, and he shoves Keith backward, hard enough that he feels the stiffness of Keith’s bones under his palms. He’s a little surprised (and a little more pleased than he’d care to admit, because this is _Keith_ and he's finally stronger than Keith) at how easily the strength comes to him.

Lance barely has time to adjust before Keith lunges at him, blade poised to kill—though maybe he isn’t trying to kill exactly, but Lance doesn’t feel like thinking about stupid Keith’s stupid motives—Lance ducks out of the way, so Keith’s knife buries itself into the tree.

"We don't have to fight if you talk, Vampire!"

He frees the knife and runs toward Lance again, so Lance swipes a leg out to unbalance him. Keith seems to expect this move, jumping away gracefully and landing in a perfect fighting stance. Asshole. He aims a well-directed punch at Lance, fierceness in his gaze. Lance doesn’t react in time, and the hit grazes his shoulder.

It doesn’t hurt. He knows Keith is strong, but it doesn’t hurt.

It does seem to hurt Keith, though, and he grimaces and tries to shake the sting out of his hand.

Lance snickers. Serves him right. Keith is better than this. “That’s what you get for not taking me seriously.”

(Taunting Keith this way feels so right, like he’s back at the Garrison again, hating the boy who was and is _everything_.)

"I just want to talk!" Keith insists.

When they’d been training, they’d been warned about how hard it was to really fight against a Vampire. Vampire skin is hard, like stone, and it takes a lot of strength to drive a stake into one, let alone use any other weapon. Lance knew the changes had taken place to make his body more Vampire and less Human, but he’d never _tested_ them out. He’s been trying to ignore these facts altogether.

Keith aims a punch at Lance again, not having learned from the first punch maybe, but Lance is quick to swipe away Keith’s arm. Keith switches to his other hand, aiming again at Lance’s face with a different silver weapon he must have drawn when Lance wasn't looking. Lance slides his head to the side so the punch barely misses him. He feels the air rushing beside him, a physical sign of Keith’s force.

If he didn’t have the reflexes and metabolism of a Vampire, he knows he’d be covered in bruises, cuts, evidence that Keith is as strong as they both know he is.

Keith glares again, and he’s back at Lance, fire in his eyes. Vaguely, Lance wonders why Keith isn’t pulling out a stake. But then, Keith hasn’t really been fighting as a Hunter. He wants something. This has all been a distraction, in a way. A welcome distraction. “Answer me! Where will I find more Galra?”

Lance snorts, though his insides are churning at the mention of the Galra again. Keith is a poor interrogator.

He needs to get distance between them. He’s been trained to fight, sure, but his best skills are in long-range attacks, and he doesn’t have a weapon to fight back. Keith, unfortunately, is _gifted_ at hand-to-hand combat, and Lance can hold his own, sure, but he’s tired from the lack of fresh blood in his system (especially with this tempting supply so close to him) and this exchange is just making him. . . sad.

He wants to pretend he’s Human, why does Keith have to ruin it?

He doesn’t know or want to know how Keith knows about the Galra. He doesn’t want to talk about it, especially not to _Keith_.

Lance catches Keith’s wrist as he is aiming another punch, and it’s one at his _face._  It’s extremely reckless and impulsive and stupid, because if Lance’s shoulder hurt Keith, imagine what his _face_ would do. The wrist is so fragile in his hands, so thin. Their eyes meet.

 _Compel him_.

Keith looks away immediately (so _some_ lessons from the Garrison have stuck) and struggles to pull his wrist free, and Lance can feel the muscles tensing in his hand. He knows he has increased strength, knows he could easily _snap_ this bone if he really wants to. Keith smells so good.

There’s something dark in him that says he should. _Drink his blood. Snap his bones. Do it, do it,_ _do it_.

 _It’s Keith, after all_.

Keith digs his blade into Lance’s side—how has he forgotten Keith is ambidextrous, when everyone used to admire how _talented_ the boy was—and Lance bites back his screech of pain at the way his blood feels like it’s _sizzling_  around the knife. His hands tremble, his hold on Keith tightening just a moment, and he remembers being overpowered by the Vampire who’d captured him, remembers being injured and aching.

The memory hurts more than this fight.

With a shout (Keith is poised to kick him _hard_ , so Lance has pretty good timing), Lance flings Keith aside by his grip on Keith’s wrist, hears the smack of Keith’s back hitting the tree, the small and breathless groan. "Nggg. . ."

Lance feels like throwing up. He did _not_ mean to do that. He doesn’t want to actually _injure_ Keith, even if he totally deserves it. Keith hadn’t been fighting him seriously at all, and he knows that. He doesn’t want to be like his captors had been, doesn’t want to hurt any Humans like this (even if it is _Keith_ ).

The voice in his head, the voice of the woman who’d hurt him, laughs and laughs and laughs. She wants him to hurt everyone, to revel in his Vampirism.

(There is a dark part of Lance that wants that, too.)

Lance runs.

Being a Vampire gives him the advantage of speed, and he runs and runs and runs. Keith isn’t even chasing him but he needs to escape, run away from him and his smell and his constant reminders of Human Lance and—

He runs until he knows he’s far enough away that he can lose himself in his thoughts. His side aches from Keith's blade, but it will heal soon enough. The sting reminds him that he's still alive, in a way.

Not for the first time, he’s guilty about what being a Vampire means. Not for the first time, he wonders, _Can something change me back?_

He's going to need to feed again. When he realizes that his thoughts are the last place he wants to go, he runs back to Hunk.

His thoughts are jumbled mess by the time he makes it back to the shack in the woods where they’re staying. His running allows him the time for the wound to heal on its own, and his skin is fresh and closed as though he’d never been hurt. The speed of his healing always surprises him, the unnaturalness of it all. There isn’t even a scar or scab or bruise to show he’d been hurt. His shirt is still torn and bloodied, though, and Lance is irritated at the thought of having to clean and repair it. Of course Keith couldn’t have had the courtesy to try and stab him where he wears his unneeded armor.

Hunk jumps up immediately at the sound of Lance returning home.

“Where’d you go?” he demands, and though his voice is stern, Lance can see the worry in his friend’s gaze.

He’s not ready to explain. He doesn't want to. “Wanted some air.”

“The sun was still up, dude.”

“The sun _set_ ,” Lance complains, unable to hide the bitterness in his tone. When he’d realized he could no longer bask in the warm sunlight of his home, he’d felt truly lost. He can’t go back home when he’s like this, and he can’t even close his eyes and pretend he’s with them because he can’t feel the warmth of the sun that _made_ his city his. “And there were trees to shade me,” he adds, as though it makes things better. His skin aches, a residual reminder that he's not Human and he can't spend time outside like he wants.

“It’s still dangerous,” Hunk argues. “What if a Hunter shows up, what if the sun melts you into place and you’re stuck when a whole team of Hunters. . .” He looks at Lance’s face, pausing. Lance immediately tries to pull into a neutral expression, but Hunk is too good at reading him. Hunk glances down at Lance’s clothes, where his shirt is torn and stained at the waist. “You ran into a Hunter!” His voice begins to rise. “What the hell, you could’ve _died_ , Lance! You could’ve—”

“You’re a Hunter, sort of,” Lance points out, plopping onto the couch. _I_ was _a Hunter_. “I made it out. I fought the guy and won, easily.”

Easily.

Because Keith wasn’t trying to fight, wasn't trying to stake him (though he so easily could). He was willing to get hurt so they could _talk_.

He wanted to ask Lance about his _Coven_. He wants information about the Galra, information that Lance doesn't have but wouldn't mind learning. Having something in common with Keith irritates him.

Hunk laughs a little nervously, searching Lance for any further injuries. Hunk must know that even if he’d been injured, he would have healed by the time he made it back. “That’s bad on the Garrison. But good for you! Did she try to stake you?”

Lance shakes his head. Keith wanted something, enough that he was willing not to take out a stake on a Vampire and fight with the full breadth of his skills. He wonders what could be so important that a shitty interrogation was more important than protecting Keith’s own life.

The Galra. . .

He stares at the ceiling instead of at Hunk.

Hunk is the only person he’s revealed himself to, after the incident. Hunk has supported him through this, talked to him, kept him calm (and Lance really, genuinely thinks he would’ve lost himself if he’d been left alone, Hunk has somehow kept him _sane_ ), and he hasn’t asked about what happened. He just dropped everything to help Lance.

He hasn’t pried—beyond snooping and trying to find if Lance has a diary, but Lance keeps all his thoughts to himself, now—but even if Lance wanted to share, he doesn’t think he can. He doesn’t remember enough about what happened. He doesn’t even know how long he’s been a Vampire.

But he does know that he’s fully, utterly, wholly thankful that he’d run into Hunk on accident, that Hunk had found him when he had.

Hunk can tell that Lance isn’t in the mood of talking. Before all this, he would’ve been excited to regale his stories of fighting. Now, he doesn’t want to think about how easily he can throw aside the _greatest Hunter of their generation_.

(How easily that damn Hunter made him feel Human again, yet even more like a Vampire.)

“Lance, you can’t keep going out like that. Especially when the sun’s still out.”

“I know,” he says, trying to sound irritated but instead sounding fond. _Hunk shouldn’t be here, watching me_. _He should be home_. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more will be coming soon ahaha. . . there will be blood! and angst!
> 
> let me know what you think, is the characterization okay? i get very wordy sometimes im sorry; I rlly hope u like this


	2. reminisce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is much later than I intended!! thank you so much for all the support and comments on the last chapter; your words mean so much to me and i reread them like every day for inspiration (and im so excited to see everyone excited about vampire fics with me hehe)
> 
> i hope you like this chapter! also, though i haven't reached the point of the fic where the art is, thank you to my partner through this big bang, [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com). Check out her art in general (but also her art for this fic hehe) she is amazinggggg~

**if we don't share the memory, was it merely a fantasy**

When Lance first enrolls in the Garrison, his family is beyond proud. There are a lot of professions Lance is interested in, so much that he wants to do and be, but the underlying factor is his desire to care for and protect the people he loves, protect everyone.

He's the sibling with the most pressure to succeed, the one who will return home to all of them and give back the love and support they've always given him. He's proud of that expectation, and he will do what it takes to meet it.

The Garrison boasts the strongest Hunters of Earth. And Lance, who has spent his life being cared for by his mother and older siblings, finally has the opportunity to give back and take care of _them_.

It's his first time away from home, when he moves into the Garrison dormitories. He dons the bright orange uniform with pride, studies and trains and does his best to make them proud of him. He sends letters every week and practices every night and is the perfect student set to be one of the best Hunters. He makes friends, he has crushes, he learns his place in the world.

Mostly, though, he studies.

_The first Vampire was born after a Summoning went wrong. Years and years ago, in the middle of a war, a desperate party in a falling territory attempted to Summon a being stronger than any Human, with the hope that the war would end and their territory would be able to reap the spoils of new lands, new resources, new slaves. But the vampiric being that came to be was an atrocity never meant to exist, and in its hunger for power, more were Turned, and a new war was started, a new civilization born._

_Territories previously warring each other joined hands against these abominations. It was an accident, when a Human attempted to Summon another species of Vampire to hunt the ones that were wreaking havoc on the territories, but a new species of Immortals was shaped nonetheless, a species taking the best traits of both species on the opposing sides of the war._

_Despite the immortality that their name suggests, Immortals are only that for a short amount of time. Immortality to an Immortal is simply a stunted aging, an extended youth until an early death decades before their Human counterparts. Their bodies do not die, no matter how drastic the injury, nor do they heal. Immortals are immortal until their magic depletes their life, then they die as any other._

_Research suggests the early death is related to the use of Immortal magic draining their lifeforce, a process discussed in more detail in Chapter VI. This so-called immortality is a loss of life to make up for the possession of certain magics, which were hoped to be the weapons that could end the war._

_As anticipated by their creation, the Immortals defended the Humans, and, together, they defeated the Vampires. This victory is not detailed in any of our current writings, so the exact mechanisms to success are unclear, but it led to the end of the war. More importantly, it led to an even greater problem._

_Initially, with the defeat of the Vampires, a treaty was written and the Vampires were shunned to a small territory of their own, surrounded by a barrier to keep them locked inside. This territory was called Daibazaal, and it had all the resources for a Human or Immortal to survive. It was considered a kind gift to the Vampires, and it is still debated to this day._

_A community of purely Vampires cannot thrive. It was due to admittedly poor planning or perhaps a misguided revenge scheme that Humans stayed away and Vampires began to starve. The territory was doomed to failure. Desperation was present in all parties, and again the Immortals were called upon—this time to help feed the Vampires, since with their magics they were assumed to be resistant to some of the natural vampiric weapons, assumed to be able to live through the feedings. The original theories and lore are detailed in Chapter VII._

_With the unfortunate discovery that Immortals were still susceptible to vampiric Compulsion, Vampires began forcibly taking control of the Immortals, using them to sneak to the Human territories, to break down the barrier surrounding Daibazaal, and to fight back._

_Instead of war, the Vampires blended with the Human and Immortal crowds and brought about death and destruction, a revenge for their Daibazaal. The unforeseen consequence of Immortals and Vampires banding together recreated and restructured the previous war. To this day, the struggle remains, with many Immortals serving Vampires by choice with the promise of true immortality rather than early and painful death._

Lance's eyes are stinging. The words in his textbook blur together. He hates studying, and he knows the history of the Vampires well enough—they've been taught how to sight one since childhood, told how to avoid them since their first steps outside. He wants to focus on fighting, on becoming stronger so he can go out and protect the people he cares about.

He knows he needs to improve his grades first, though, as Hunk so kindly points out every time Lance rants about the mullet-headed top of the Hunter class.

"Did you hear about Nyma's boyfriend?" Lance announces, stretching his arms and turning to Hunk. Gossip is a surefire way to retain Hunk's attention when they have exams, and Lance feels they deserve a study break now.

They're splayed out in their dorm room. The Garrison boasts luxuries that other families could only hope to afford, and their dormitory system to house the numerous trainee Hunters of Earth proves that advertisement is a reality. The rooms are small yet comfortable. They have bunk beds—Hunk is the bottom bunk, as he says the top bunk makes him feel queasy—and only one desk, which Hunk tends to use more than Lance. As usual, Hunk sits at the desk, his textbooks open and laid out in front of him. Lance, on the other hand, splays himself across Hunk's bed (bothering Hunk from the top bunk is hard!), his notes haphazardly strewn about despite the care he put in organizing them when their study session first began.

Hunk twirls in his chair to face Lance. He's making an unpleasant face, but his eyes betray his curiosity. "What did you hear?"

Hunk isn't a huge fan of Nyma. Lance stands by his assessment that she's one of the few students that makes the ugly Garrison uniforms look attractive. And yeah, maybe she agreed to go out with Lance and then never showed up because she had a date with someone else, but Lance has a weakness for all that is pretty, and all girls fall into that category.

"Apparently," Lance lowers his voice dramatically, "some Hunters found him trading Garrison weapons to _Vampires_."

"What? Where'd you hear that?"

"Nyma was talking about it right before we were practicing disarming."

"Should she be telling people about this? It makes Rolo look even worse. . ." Hunk doesn't seem to mind. "What happened?"

"She didn't get to say!" Lance can't hide the bitterness in his tone.

They were interrupted by their professor asking for a volunteer to demonstrate the proper technique. But _volunteer_ is just Garrison code for _having Keith show off._ And he showed off _a lot_ , easily beating the professor and fucking _smirking_ about it. (And his hair was falling into his eyes, and his breathing was heavy, and he made disarming someone look so incredibly easy and _appealing_ , and Lance hates him he hates him he _hates him_.) Lance grits his teeth just thinking about it.

"Uhh, you alright?" Hunk sounds worried, and Lance tells himself to _tone it down_ Keith is _not worth it_.

"Yeah, yeah. I just really want to know if Rolo was kicked out or what." Hunk doesn't like Nyma because of what happened, but he _really_ doesn't like Rolo.

"That's something the Garrison would probably kick him out for," Hunk agrees thoughtfully. "Did she say _why_ he was trading our weapons? That puts so many people in danger!"

The idea of going out and fighting Vampires is a lot more daunting knowing that the Vampires might have knowledge of their weaponry. They'll lose any elements of surprise that they might have.

"I have no idea. It's just weird since he's our classmate."

Hunk seems lost in thought. "I heard people saying they don't know what they'd do if they were him. Maybe he was doing it to protect someone." Lance wonders what he would do, if it were a choice between trading weapons or saving his family, saving himself.

When he visits home, he's welcomed with open arms and hugs and kisses. He loves his family so much, and he's getting the best opportunities to train as a Hunter in school and still get the chance to spend time with everyone.

"What would you—"

"O _kay_ study break over!"

* * *

This time, when Lance leaves the shack, he gives Hunk warning.

"It hasn't even been a day since you ran into a Hunter." Hunk's worry is palpable, and Lance feels guilty but he's also in a weird mental state where he just wants to give Hunk more space and learn more about himself at the same time (and quickly, since he's going to have to leave Hunk soon). Hunk spends too much time fretting over Lance. He needs to be able to focus without his best friend around.

"I'm just getting some air." He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles until he sees Hunk's expression relax.

"Just stick your head out the window and breathe," Hunk chuckles, "you're worse here than at the Garrison."

Lance laughs, though he immediately forces his thoughts away from the Garrison and his previous penchant for rule-breaking. He's not going there, not now. Not when _this_ was the outcome. He has enough time at night, when he's lying around and _thinking_ (because Vampires can't sleep so all he has is time and anxiety), to lose himself in his thoughts and regrets.

Hunk waves Lance off. Lance can't help his fond smile before he leaves.

At night, when Hunk is asleep and Lance doesn't want to think much about what happened, he researches and he plans.

So far, he's read the addresses on Pidge's letters to Hunk. Hunk mentioned the Vampires in Altea thing again, that they need partners to get it, but Lance hasn't yet asked for details. He doesn't read their letters—he has some sense of privacy, though he knows Hunk has the tendency to overlook that if it means it will help his friends and wouldn't mind if Lance reads their exchanges—but he knows Pidge lives in a middle ring of Altea.

He's skimmed through Hunk's history textbook and learned more about the layout of Altea. As Pidge said, Altea is a collection of territories clustered together and magically protected by the Immortal royal family. These Immortals were elevated to royalty because of their ability to protect everyone from the Vampire threat of Daibazaal on its border, as descendants of the Immortals who conjured the initial barrier surrounding Daibazaal.

The outer border of Altea, though equally as protected, is much less developed, with more natural surroundings like underground caves and fields and trees. Moving further in, the area starts to have homes and residences, churches and shops, until the innermost ring of Altea is reached, and the castle for the royal family resides.

When Lance was younger and he'd believed in fairy tales, the idea of being a Prince of Altea had seemed like a dream. Knowing more now (and being an immortal undead being, now), he knows it isn't what it seems. The current princess, a woman named Allura, is expected to marry and have a child soon, as her short Immortal lifespan could at any time draw to a close and a new royal family member will need to supply the magic to maintain Altea's protection. The royal family's magic isn't fully understood, but it seems more than powerful enough to protect the land and possibly heal Lance from his predicament.

Sure, it's never been done before, but maybe no other Vampires have tried to break into the borders of Altea for the purpose of being Turned back Human.

He'll need to find a way into Altea, though, and he knows there's a reason no Vampires have made it inside, other than those who use whatever plan Pidge detailed in her letters to Hunk. But that must be rare, and he's glad no other Vampires have made it inside. Altea is a protected city for a reason, and Lance hopes it stays that way, hopes that his family will be able to move there, like they'd always planned.

Even if they have to move without him.

A rabbit scampers past his feet, the movement quick enough that he is surprised, jolted out of his thoughts. He watches it pause close to him, watches it stare at him. His heart aches. If the rabbit knew what he was, it wouldn't be so fearlessly innocent. He could easily destroy it.

He wishes he could just tear into its flesh and drink its blood instead of a Human's blood.

But Lance has enough experience that he knows it hurts worse if does.

He's walking around, mind wandering, when he smells the sweet smell of a Human. He has little practice in honing his senses, so he can't determine the Human's proximity or if the Human is a Hunter, but the smell is powerful and beautiful and _there_.

As he is distracted by the smell, something hits him.

A sharp, aching pain resounds from the side of his waist.

"Shit." Lance gasps, shaking as he looks down at the injury, dark blood seeping from his side. It's a hit a little too close to where Keith stabbed him (not that he's still hurt or remembers the exact place, considering the unnatural speed of his healing, he just doesn't like the thought of Keith getting a hit on him), and that irritates him. He doesn't know what caused this, but he can hear the rustling of movement in the trees, can smell a Human not too far away.

He knows that, as a Vampire, he needs to start relying on his senses. They're good senses. Sometimes they act without his awareness, Vampire instincts too quick for his mind to process. Pinning Hunk to the wall too strongly the first time he wanted to drink. Draining his first meal to complete dryness. Tossing Keith aside like a toy. Thinking dark, possessive thoughts without realizing.

There's always something dark in the back of his mind, taunting him with the feelings of hunger and need that he could easily just surrender to, easily follow. Everything is more powerful, more heightened, that way. He just. . . doesn't like what he had to give up in getting such power, and if he uses those instincts, it feels like he is surrendering even more of the little humanity he has left.

So, sometimes, when he knows he's heard something or the back of his mind reminds him that his food is nearby, he ignores it.

_Pounce on her and take what you want._

The Hunter must have thrown something at him, he figures. Something sharp, probably a silver throwing star.

(Lance had been good at them. He was good at anything that required distance, the bow and arrows, the guns, the throwing stars. Hunter pairs require a long range and a close range partner, and Lance had been proud of being one of the best in his set back in the Garrison.)

He wants to investigate, but then he hears a shout and a girl is running at him, a spear aimed at his stomach.

Lance jumps backward, out of the girl's reach. Her staff doesn't graze him, but the tip is pointed and made of silver. The cut on his side stings badly. Moving this much probably isn't the best idea if he wants to heal, but he was able to do it when he'd escaped Daibazaal before, when he'd run from Keith yesterday. He can do it now.

The pain is reverberating in different intensities, a sharp sting, a slow burn, aching and _aching_ and impeding his movements as he waits for his body to heal itself. It hurts more than Keith's stab wound, so he isn't sure about the material of Keith's knife anymore. He plans on never getting hit by silver again.

The Hunter snarls at him, and the determination in her eyes is worrying, a little bit.

Lance isn't taking the fight seriously. Can't she see that?

She aims blow after blow at him, her staff unremitting as he ducks and jumps and uses his arms and legs to block her. She vaults off the trees as leverage to get toward him faster, to reach the heights she needs in order to get closer to him without being within his 'drinking distance' as they used to call it in the Garrison. She's good, but Lance is better.

If he closes his eyes and pretends, it's like he's training at the Garrison again.

She's fast, though, and she's going back at him again, relentless. He raises his leg to block her hit, and when her staff reverberates back he slides underneath it and away from her. He wonders if he should incapacitate her and run, if he should continue fighting. He's strong enough for either option, and he doesn't see a reason to hurt her.

He catches her next hit in his hand directly, staring at her, then at the spear in his hands. He could yank it from her easily, toss it aside, toss _her_ aside.

But if he does that, he could really hurt her. He remembers (unfortunately) the sounds of his first kill. He remembers the sound of Keith's body hitting the tree when he'd thrown him aside.

It is too easy. It is disgusting. He shouldn't have the ability to do that. He should be Human, weak, working for his strength, overpowering people the normal way.

It would be so _easy_.

What's the point?

He lets go of the spear, angry at himself.

She aims another hit at him, her staff managing to slice his shoulder, and he can't help his shout as he falls back.

It feels like his skin is _melting_ where the metal has torn his skin, and the wound isn't healing as fast as he's accustomed (as fast as they'd been taught Vampires heal). Silver _hurts_. It's not enough to render his arm immobile, but it hurts to move it, like his arm is going to split away.

He doesn't have enough energy to heal since he doesn't feed as often as he should.

But she's about to stab him again, and though he doesn't want to fight, he also doesn't want to die like this, so he uses his undamaged arm to block the hit, using the strength of his block to force her backward.

He's so distracted by this girl that he allows his guard to fall. Hunters don't usually travel alone.

He dodges another hit from her spear when he feels a deep slice of the skin of his calf, numb at first, and then crushing in its pain. "Argh!" He stumbles, and then his leg feels like it's raw and throbbing and he reaches down to grab it as though it'll dull the hurt—

She pins him.

She has the stake poised over his heart, and he lays on the ground under her. Her hands are shaking, but her eyes are fierce and determined. Lance's heart is racing. She's pretty. If this were just practice, if they were back at the Garrison, if Lance were _Human_ , Lance would've said something.

Lance could easily overpower them. He isn't hungry, though he knows he needs blood since he'll have to heal himself from all of this fighting. He isn't tired, though he knows how much energy he's wasting. He's injured, but the tear in his side has almost fully closed now. His shoulder is getting there. He let this happen to himself— _take her blood, drain her pathetic Human body—_ and maybe. . .

He smells the sweet tang of something familiar, the tantalizing whiff of a stupid familiar Human's blood making its way closer.

Keith.

"Hey!"

The Hunters pause in their actions—they are so lucky Lance isn't a different Vampire—and everyone looks up.

"What are you _doing_?" Keith demands. He's not looking at the Hunters, though. His stupid pretty purple eyes (and his stupidly nice smell) are directed at Lance.

The sound of that stupid voice sparks something angry in him, and he shoves the Hunter off of him more forcefully than he intends, clenching his jaw when he feels the wound on his shoulder tear itself open again. He's _never_ letting himself get hit by silver again. If he has to be a Vampire, even for a little longer, he will let himself experience the perks of it.

He has _one_ temporary lapse in judgement (he's had more problems, more losses of control, but those are memories he keeps in the dark for a reason), and of course _Keith_ witnesses it.

He's stronger than this, he knows, because he can at the very least hold his own against Keith. And Keith is the best of the best.

 _Keith_ wouldn't have gotten captured by the Galra. _Keith_ wouldn't have been Turned into a Vampire. _Keith_ wouldn't have been held in a cell for months, forced to starve instead of fully Turning—

The Hunters keep their weapons pointed at Lance, but their eyes are focused on Keith. A Vampire may be threatening, but if Keith is there, they are probably safe. It's annoying but the truth, which frustrates Lance to no end. "You're Kogane, right? The kid with the discipline problem?"

Keith's confused expression is comical, and the brief eye contact he makes with Lance makes Lance's heartbeat quicken. "Do I know you?"

"Everybody knows the legendary _Keith_ _Kogane_ ," Lance sneers, pulling himself up so he is standing on eye level with everyone.

Keith's face flushes pink. In his periphery, Lance notices the Hunter duo giving him a strange look (shit, he isn't supposed to make it _obvious_ he has roots in the Garrison, what if it gets back to his family?), but instead of reacting to them, he's more concerned with Keith's blush.

Lance swallows. The rush of blood to Keith's face gives him a stronger whiff of his scent—why the _hell_ does appetizing blood have to be another one of Keith's qualities? The two Hunters don't smell nearly as intoxicating.

Holding his breath, he focuses on the Hunters instead, to keep them from going after him again.

"Professor Iverson mentions you a lot," one of the Hunters admits, since Keith is much too open in his expressions. Her partner is still poised to attack Lance if necessary. They're a good team together. Lance likes to think he would've been like that, with whoever would have been his partner.

"I. . . Yeah." He frowns and crosses his arms, movements stiff. "I have business with this Vampire, actually. So."

He looks and sounds incredibly awkward while talking (is he trying to imply they should leave, because that is _not_ the way to do it), and if Lance weren't the Vampire Keith has 'business' with, he would be laughing.

A small smirk tugs at Lance's lips, unbidden and hopefully unnoticed.

The Hunters glance at each other, then appraise Keith's nonchalant stance, his lack of obvious silver weapons. His small dagger is visible in its holster, but it isn't exactly a strong enough weapon to take on a Vampire. It's part of how Lance knows Keith is an idiot and doesn't plan on actually trying to hurt him. Is he really that confident in his own skills?

"Are you sure? He's not that strong"—Lance's smirk morphs into a scowl, he _was going easy on them_ —"but we really shouldn't. . ."

Keith doesn't seem to see their hesitance. "I have a stake or two on me." He smirks at Lance, repeating their words, "He's not that strong."

Okay, _rude_.

"I don't know if—"

Keith moves so quickly he startles everyone. His knife is at Lance's chest, pressing against his shirt, next to his heart.

Lance hadn't forgotten exactly why his professors had loved Keith so much, but it's always a surprise dealing with it firsthand. He's agile (but not faster than a Vampire, Lance has him beat). He's poised to fight, but he's definitely holding back, and everyone can see that, his blade brandished and dangerously near Lance's heart before Lance can even finish blinking.

His heartbeat quickens at Keith's closeness, and he tries willing it to slow down. He has faster reflexes than Keith, but he's helping Keith prove a point. He could easily, _easily_ take Keith down.

"I'll be fine." His voice is so smug and condescending and Lance is reminded all over again how much he _hates_ _Keith_.

The Hunters smile awkwardly and clamber away. He can hear them mumbling to each other, since his senses are heightened, can hear them whispering about getting to meet Keith Kogane, about how even the Vampire had known about him. Lance keeps his eyes focused on Keith as he listens to their footsteps fade. He hears that they are far enough away that he can talk to Keith without eavesdroppers, but, though he knows he has the ability, he cannot smell their blood as a marker of their location.

Instead, Keith's horrifyingly appealing scent overwhelms him. He licks his lips.

He really wishes he could turn his senses off.

Now that they aren't in any danger (from each other or from other Hunters), Lance takes this time to really appraise Keith. Before Keith dropped out, he'd only really seen Keith in the Garrison uniform.

Keith is wearing a bright red jacket, which, on first thought, seems like a bad idea for trying to blend and hide from Vampires, not that Keith would be able to hide _that_ well, he smells too good, too sweet and tempting and—yes, so the red jacket looks somewhat decent on Keith. Lance tries to focus on other things, tries not to let Keith's smell distract him further. Ugh. Under his jacket is a dark red armor, a chest plate to protect his heart.

Lance wears darker colors so he blends in better when he travels at night. His jacket is one he can't bring himself to throw out, one he went back to the Garrison for—which was how Hunk found him, crying over his inability to reach his old belongings—and underneath he wears a light brown armored chest plate. He doesn't need armor, not with the strength of his skin against most weapons, but it maintains appearances. It's a familiarity he doesn't want to lose.

"Can't stay away from me, can you?" He winks at Keith, stretches his lips into a smile that purposely reveals his fangs. It feels unusual doing this, when he usually tries to hide his teeth, but he doesn't like that Keith thinks he's so strong. He isn't. He's just a decent Hunter who is _lucky_ the Vampire he keeps running into is Lance.

"What?"

"You know."

Keith shakes his head, and Lance sighs. Joking feels weird around Keith. But it's an important part of being  _Lance_ , and he won't let it rest.

"You just can't resist"—he gestures down at himself—"all of this."

Keith blinks a few times. "What? No, I. . ." Keith stares at Lance in silence, letting the awkwardness between them build and build. Lance shifts on his feet. Their eyes can't meet, as there's always the threat of a Vampire's Compulsion, but Lance can feel the strength of Keith's piercing gaze. "You're Galra, right?" Keith asks, after a long, long (too long) pause.

Despite every other moment that Lance has wanted to punch Keith, this is yet another reason. He doesn't say anything, but his fists are clenched and trembling and ready for when Keith opens his stupid mouth and says something else that's just as thoughtless. And yes, Keith doesn't know that (even Hunk doesn't know), but it hurts to hear the word and know the truth behind it when being Galra is much worse than just being a Vampire.

Keith must be able to tell Lance is expecting an explanation or _something_ , and he continues, "You smell like—"

"That's weird, Keith, even for you," Lance interrupts, voice flat and cold.

"It's not a bad thing! I just. . ." Keith pauses, maybe sensing that Lance is irritated. That might be expecting too much, considering Keith's more-than-lacking social skills, but Lance hopes that Keith can recognize when to end a bad conversation. "I have questions for you."

"So you've been following me since you think I smell," Lance almost chokes on the word, "Galra?"

"Aren't you?"

"No."

"What's the point in lying about it?" Keith's voice rises in pitch. His fists are clenched and his eyes are bright and Lance hates what he thinks about that expression. _Ruin him and ruin that look on his face. Take his blood for yourself._ "I'm not going to hurt you. I made that clear by fighting without a weapon."

Lance already knows this, and Keith knows Lance knows this, so there's no point in this conversation. Lance is just wasting time talking to Keith. He should leave. He wants to leave. He doesn't move, though, stands in the same place as though he is the one Compelled, as though he is not the overpowered supernatural being.

"I just have some questions," Keith adds, voice much softer. It's a tone Lance hasn't heard from Keith before. Is it pity? Or is it something else?

The more Keith talks, the more Lance has to resist the voice in his head demanding that he hurt the Hunter. He doesn't even know why he's sticking around for this conversation, knowing that Keith is the most annoying Human he's ever met. But it's Keith, and Lance has always, unfortunately, been drawn to Keith like this.

"Why are you so interested in the Galra?" Lance decides on asking, steering the conversation to something less volatile and more directed to Keith. He knows nothing about the Hunter beyond his annoying traits, and Lance normally likes attention but not like this.

"Not your business." Keith shuts his mouth, closed off as he's always been, crossing his arms.

"It _is_ my business, if you're going to keep following me!" Lance snaps, a reflex that comes naturally when he's near someone so _annoying_.

"I wasn't _following you_!" Keith yells back. He seems frustrated, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. "Look. Vampire, I—"

Vampire? Lance chokes on a laugh. He hates being called Vampire like that, like it's his _name_. He's back at Daibazaal, when he is addressed like this, back in that lonely cell, drying up because of the lack of blood, injured and torn and broken to measure his healing time, his weakness. . .

He shivers. "Do you even know my name?"

A long pause. "Uhh. . ."

He tells himself that it doesn't bother him that Keith doesn't remember him at all.

Keith doesn't know his name, despite having several classes together, vying for the top positions of their respective classes as rivals (Keith in the close-range Hunters, Lance in the long-distance Hunters), running into each other _twice_ now while Keith's a dropout ex-Hunter and Lance is a Vampire. It's so frustrating and irritating (and it _hurts_ , it _hurts_ to know that the person you had been fighting for so long never saw you as good enough to be a rival).

 

He is so  _arrogant_! He's rude and annoying and Lance hates hates  _hates_ him.

Keith blushes—even though it's nighttime, Lance can see the darkening of Keith's pale cheeks, smell the hint of his most likely delicious blood rushing to his face—and mutters, "I. . . Not exactly. . ."

"Not exactly," Lance echoes. He hopes the cold emptiness he hears in his voice is something only he hears, that Keith doesn't realize how much this affects him. Not. Exactly.

Keith bites his lip (Lance drags his eyes away), then says stiffly, "Okay, so who are you?"

Lance is torn between endearment to the smell of Keith's blood and irritation at Keith _forgetting who he is_. Since he's still uncomfortable with the idea of drinking someone else's blood (but if he can get to Altea, he will never have to, never again), he settles on the latter, snarling at Keith. He won't show that he's affected by this. He has bigger things to worry about, more important things. Things that don't involve Keith.

He has plans to draw, ideas to develop, and places to be that don't involve this stupid, selfish Hunter.

"Figure it out, _Keith_."

Then, since he can't think of another way to make his dramatic exit more, well, _dramatic_ , he spins on his heel and walks away.

* * *

Keith scowls at the retreating figure of the Vampire, annoyed at himself for not handling the situation better. He's able to tell that the guy is a new Vampire; his movements are unpracticed, and his face always shows slight surprise after doing something where most Vampires wouldn't even blink. Most importantly, though, his face is familiar—Keith thinks his own face feels warm, the Vampire has quite the smolder—though he can't place a name to the man behind it.

This guy was Turned by the Galra. Keith knows it's a bit of an unusual trait that he has, but it's useful and necessary that he can _tell_ when a person is a Vampire, can _tell_ when a Vampire is the product of one of the Galra. Instinct hasn't proven him wrong yet.

He's a Hunter with good instincts, he tells himself. That's why he knows the Vampire is Galra. It's why he knows _this_ Galra Vampire is the one who can lead him to Shiro.

He's been trying so hard to find a lead on Shiro's disappearance that it's strange to have a Vampire like this just fall into his luck. Keith isn't lucky. He has a propensity of losing the people he cares about.

This Vampire is the first Galra who hasn't fought so hard that Keith had to pull out his stake (he only has a few because of how expensive they are, and it's difficult to steal them from the Garrison). He's had to kill three Vampires (two Galra) since starting his so far dead-end investigation, had to waste time in recovery after fighting took too much on him (he acts without thinking, sometimes using fighting techniques that cause more injury to himself than to his opponent to distract them when he makes his move with his limited weaponry), had to struggle harder than ever when older Galra outnumbered him more than he expected, but he finally has a Galra who will crack under his current strength.

Despite the looming war, the Galra haven't been as present in Earth, lately. There are other Vampires circling about, feeding and killing and Turning people, building numbers and changing the tides, but the Galra have mainly been in Daibazaal, most likely waiting for the best moment to strike.

Keith doesn't think he can wait any longer. He needs to charge into Daibazaal, where he _knows_ the Galra have taken Shiro. He _needs_ to charge in and rescue his best friend, the only person he can consider family.

Keith doesn't have the patience to be sitting around like this, but he repeats Shiro's words in his head like a mantra, hoping that if he waits and plans he will be able to focus and get to Shiro without trouble. He's been pretty good about waiting so far, incapacitating Vampires and interrogating them—but getting no answers, he thinks bitterly, only more questions—before leaving them to restart the cycle with other Vampires, other Galra. He hasn't gathered much (any) useful information, but he doesn't have the resources to get to Daibazaal, let alone fight once he's there.

He's a good Hunter, but he isn't strong enough to make it into the Daibazaal palace without a plan. No Human can enter Daibazaal without the Vampires getting their fill, but if he enters with a Vampire, he might be able to make it through without dying. The Vampire would be able to open doors for him.

If he's lucky—and Keith knows he shouldn't push it, but he'll take risks for Shiro, he'll do whatever it takes for Shiro—this Vampire will give him the information he needs, as well. There's so much he doesn't know, and Shiro would want him to make a plan. Keith needs to be at full strength, and this Vampire can offer protection to Keith, if he plays his cards right.

Until now, he's been fighting with just his knife, though it's only silver-coated and isn't enough to kill. He uses it as a source of comfort, something that buys him the time he needs to question the Vampires he's been finding. Little by little he's been stockpiling weapons from the Garrison, silver stakes and some throwing stars (though his aim isn't one of his better skills, the weapon itself is valuable and something he will find use for, soon enough; silver is too expensive to purchase in the nearby village, it's a rarity only the wealthy and the government can afford), so he can protect himself and other people if necessary.

But he needs better intel, which is the real reason he's looking for Vampires, and he's finally found a way with this Vampire.

The familiar yet unfamiliar face of this latest Vampire is the first person he's met who has some ties to the Galra.

He has the smell of someone Turned by an Original Vampire.

But what happened that a Garrison student Turned Vampire? The Garrison is protected well by its Immortal headmaster, on a scale small enough that it is barred off in a similar manner to Altea. The Vampire, when he was Human, would have had to leave school grounds and venture away far enough that he was no longer protected, and Keith can't imagine what would bring such a smart student to do something so stupid. There would have been signs of a fight, and the boy's family would have said something after enough time passed.

Keith can't remember this man exactly, but he remembers that as a student he was talented, a good fighter. He was, and probably still is, based on the way he carries himself, genuine and charismatic and popular. More popular than Keith, anyway. Keith had liked him enough, _maybe_ might've wanted to talk to him (and would have, if he had known what to say), though they hadn't ever interacted. It's taken a bit of memory jogging, but Keith remembers the Vampire's laugh.

Why would he have been Turned? Had he been captured or did he go willingly? How did he leave?

Along with the Vampire's own story, there are so many questions that could help Keith get to Shiro (there are so many things Keith wants to know about the Vampire, in general), if the Vampire can answer him.

Keith can't remember this person's name.

Sighing, Keith pulls his knife from its sheath and runs his fingers lightly along the edge. Seeing the knife calms him, so his thoughts don't race too far out of his control. He doesn't think he'll get much sleep tonight.

He wants (needs) to figure out the Vampire's name.

If he can learn the Vampire's name, they can work together, like they were meant to do in the past, so Keith can get to Shiro.

Unfortunately, returning back to the abandoned basement he's been using as housing does not offer him any answers. The house is on the outskirts of a nearby village, and there is a family that lives in the upper portion of the house. The basement is unused because it is crumbling and not meant to be occupied for housing, but Keith doesn't have anywhere else and it serves its storage and bedroom purpose, since he isn't inside most of the day. He likes it because he finds some comfort in hearing footsteps, the chatter of a family that loves each other, that is safe from Vampires and war. It's proof that he can be near people, in a way, since the most talking he's been doing lately involves interrogating the same Vampire who very clearly doesn't want to talk to him.

He left the Garrison a little under a year ago, when he'd felt stifled by a program that wouldn't let him explore the reasons behind Shiro's disappearance. (He also had a bit of a temper flare, admittedly, but it wouldn't have happened if they just answered his questions.) Shiro was supposed to be going to Altea. He was the star of the Garrison and was going to meet with the Altean Princess and discuss something very important with her. The entire trip was planned to the most minute of details, well-protected and well-guarded, to the point that even Shiro couldn't comprehend the number of layers behind the scheme.

Shiro should not have gone missing.

He definitely did not join with the Vampires, like the rumors were saying. Shiro is too good of a person, and he would never—

No one wanted to hear Keith's complaints, though, and he'd left. He didn't have anywhere to go, so it hadn't been the best of his ideas, but he made it work and he's working on getting his answers so he can find Shiro and fix everything.

He doesn't own anything from his time at the Garrison other than an old uniform (handed down by Shiro and much too big for Keith), the bright orange taunting him of his failures. He certainly has nothing that would remind him of the Vampire's name. It's not like he ever needed to know names before. He had one friend, and that was enough. Shiro is the only person Keith needs (even if Shiro has abandoned Keith in a way, too, just like the others). If Keith tries to get close to anyone else, they'll leave, too.

Anytime he tried to learn the names of the people in the orphanages, in the homes, he'd be forced to leave. He remembers the labs, vaguely, remembers the way his mother left, his father left.

Why would learning the names of everyone in _the Garrison_ have made sense?

He lies back on his pile of blankets that serve as a bed, trying to sort through memories to reach an understanding. But all of his memories involve Shiro and none of his peers. It's Keith's fault for not socializing or interacting with his classmates, but the most he can remember of the Vampire when he'd been Human is that he had _exceled_ at distance attacks.

If Keith hadn't dropped from the Garrison program, the Vampire would most likely have been his partner. He pictures them fighting together, back-to-back, guns and throwing stars and a silver sword. Partners.

Keith lets out a frustrated groan. They would have gotten along, right? Shiro would tell him to talk to this Vampire; he'll have to talk to the Vampire again.

(He doesn't think he minds.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think so far?? hopefully you enjoyed, but let me know your thoughts? :')


	3. discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh thank you so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter you are all so amazing i'm so happy we're going through this vampire journey together let me love youuuuuu :3
> 
> we're getting closer to the first art by the lovely [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com) so stay tuned!!

**share a word or two and learn more about me and you**

The next time they run into each other, Lance starts the fight.

He doesn't know why, but Keith just riles him up _so much_ , and it's hard to avoid the urge to hurt someone when that someone has stupid ugly hair and is just _standing_ in the middle of a dark path between Earthen and Altean territory, _waiting_ for a Vampire to beat him up. Who is Lance to ignore all the signals Keith is leaving?

(And if he feels like seeing Keith perks up his mood in the right way, the way he used to feel when he was a Human student at the Garrison hating on Keith and his stupid hair, then it's alright with him.)

It's the same place they ran into each other before, woods around them, the skyline of Altea shimmering in the distance, taunting Earth with its beauty. The sun isn't up yet, though it will be soon, and Lance is trying to relish the nice weather before he has to hide from the sun again. It's almost time for him to return to Hunk, but it also seems a bit early for Keith to be wandering.

The fact that they're meeting again in this location is a bit too coincidental, but Lance is frustrated, at himself and at Keith (for so many reasons, not the least of which being that he's pretending he doesn't know Lance) and even at Hunk for not admitting that he wants to go back to the Garrison. He aims the first punch.

Keith slides out of the way immediately (which Lance should have expected, but seeing Keith just messes with his head sometimes). Keith grabs Lance's shoulder, pulling them close enough that he's able to pull up his knee and shove it hard against Lance's stomach. Lance doesn't flinch, Keith's action the lightest brush of skin, really.

But he notices Keith stumble back, the slightest bit of weakness to the leg he'd used to aim. Interesting. The Garrison always told them of the difficulty in breaking or hurting a Vampire's tough skin, and Keith's impulsive fighting technique gives Lance the impression that Keith doesn't seem to mind self-injury so long as he reaches his goal.

Just what has he been up to?

Keith is quick to recover from his bruise. His knife is buried in Lance's abdomen, making Lance question if Keith's fighting style is meant to serve as a distraction, if he fights like this for a reason. The sting of the knife is definitely distracting, though, and Lance lets out an uneven breath, yanking the knife out of his body and tossing it aside so his body can heal itself. Keith is going to attack again, but, because Lance has the advantage of speed, Lance moves even more quickly than Keith could ever hope (as a Human), swooping in and aiming a swift punch at Keith's stomach.

Keith staggers back, but not before he's snuck out another weapon, a silver throwing star, to slice at Lance's arm as he's pulling it back. Lance lets out an angry hiss at the sting. How did he manage to get hurt by silver again?

"You again." Keith doesn't sound surprised.

He sounds breathless from the bruise sure to form at his stomach, and that rouses Lance up even more. Did Keith want this all to happen? Did he cut Lance for _fun_? Keith's tone of voice is so tempting to the darker thoughts inside Lance's head, begging him to finish the fight and _take Keith's tempting blood_.

Lance scowls. "Well, ex _cuse_ you!"

They circle each other slowly, Keith looking more curious than threatened. Lance is sure he just looks irritated.

"I was hoping we could talk," Keith says, and though his voice is unaffected, Lance is pleased to see Keith placing a hand on his stomach, curling in a little bit. His breathing is still the slightest bit uneven, but his eyes are bright and he looks much too happy to see Lance.

How much of this stupid encounter was planned?

Lance is a little annoyed now, realizing that he ended up doing exactly what Keith wanted by punching him. At least he got to punch Keith. That's one check mark on his bucket list. "Still don't remember me?" He flashes Keith his winning smirk, watching as Keith flushes pink (flashing his pretty smell again) and looks away.

He decides Keith is an _idiot_ for standing around waiting for a Vampire. No one goes around alone anymore, not even Hunters. There are rumors circulating, and Lance knows firsthand what some Vampires are capable of and what could happen. Keith may be strong (the strongest Hunter of their generation, Lance's mind supplies helpfully), but if he smells like this, he's nowhere near prepared to fight less forgiving Vampires, like the ones he's looking to find.

But then, neither of them is taking this fighting against each other seriously.

Keith stares at Lance for a while, quiet and debating what he wants to say, and then he sighs. "What are you up to, outside of the Garrison?"

His question sounds so forced, like a question he pulled out of a toddler school for making friends. Lance snorts. "Careful, Keith, you might sound like you care."

"I do!" He seems to regret the passion in his voice, face burning bright red not too soon after his outburst. Lance scowls and holds his breath, irritated at the strong scent of Keith's blood, all too tempting, warm and nourishing and probably, _definitely_ , delicious.

"Why are you looking for Vampires?" Lance decides, curiosity getting the better of him, trying to distract himself from his hunger, from the pretty smell of Keith's fading blush. He shouldn't (doesn't) care about what stupid _Keith_ is up to, but he asks anyway.

Keith shrugs. Lance is about to call him out on his unnecessary secrecy before Keith says, finally, "I'm looking for Galra."

Obviously. Lance debates punching him again, but he refrains because he knows it will get them nowhere. If he's going to be stuck interacting with Keith every time he leaves Hunk's side, he'd like to be prepared. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"You might know some things."

"About?"

"You know what."

Lance gives him a pointed look, a frown tugging at his lips. "Spell it out then, Keith."

Keith sighs and crosses his arms, his stance more relaxed than it should be, considering he's a Human alone with a Vampire. In a way it's nice, to not be seen as the heartless Vampire he's worried he's become. But is Keith really so reckless? Would he have conversations like this with any Vampire? It's probably just lucky coincidence that Lance is the Vampire he keeps running into, and yet, Keith wasn't surprised to see him, was _smirking_ about it. He wants to talk to Lance, specifically.

"How much do you know about the Galra?"

Even just hearing the word 'Galra' makes Lance sad. He hates remembering what happened, how they made him into this, that he's a ruined monster because they wanted to _test_ some things. "The Garrison said they're the original Vampires from Daibazaal," he says, proud of calm in his voice. "Do _you_ remember anything _else_ from the Garrison days?"

"About the Galra?" Lance levels him with a stare, and it's silent for a minute or so before Keith stutters, "O-oh. You meant. . ." Keith has the decency to look a little embarrassed, and Lance wonders if it's worth seeing Keith blush pretty pink if it means he's forced to resist the temptation of his blood. "No."

"You really don't remember me."

Lance knows his tone is flat, his face is expressionless, but he's really not happy that Keith would forget their rivalry, that he's so _forgettable_ after having nearly every class together, after opposing each other in skillsets, after living near each other in the dormitories for almost a year.

Keith fumbles over his words, uncrossing his arms and glancing at Lance's eyes before looking away. "It's not. . ." He seems unsure of his next words, "I don't remember your name."

"Of course, the legendary _Keith Kogane_ wouldn't remember someone so insignificant—"

"What?"

"Don't act like you're _guiltless_."

"I'm not—"

"You think you're too good for everyone!"

Keith has the _gall_ to look hurt. "No! I just—"

Lance lets out a shout and charges toward Keith. He doesn't know what he wants to do, but his hands are fists and Keith's face is _right there_ , but Keith has amazing reflexes and manages to catch Lance's fists before they cause any damage. Keith uses his grip on Lance to force him aside, so he loses his balance. With a growl, Lance uses his legs to swipe at Keith, so Keith will fall as well. They both catch themselves before hitting the ground.

"The name's _Lance_!" he shouts, at the same time as Keith insists, "I remember you!"

They stare at each other before breaking eye contact almost immediately. Keith isn't meeting his eyes, and though Lance knows it's better that he doesn't (because Lance is a Vampire and could easily Compel him), the lack of eye contact distances them further, makes Lance feel less Human and more like the undead creature he wants to pretend he isn't. Lance can hear Keith's breaths, the rustle of the leaves on the trees around them. They're both breathing hard, still close to each other, still touching.

They're lucky they're alone here. Lance is glad it's just them.

"Lance?" Keith repeats, testing the name on his tongue. Lance shivers, and it aggravates where Keith has stabbed him. He's never heard Keith say his name, and there's something about the sound of _Lance_ from Keith's lips that makes his heart beat a little faster.

"You remember me." He knows he wanted this, but he's stuck in a state of disbelief.

Suddenly, his mind is running through all of his possible interactions with Keith. Had he done anything embarrassing that Keith is remembering?

"You were. . . a distance fighter." Keith looks uncomfortable under Lance's stare. "You were really popular."

Lance feels strangely light and warm at Keith's acknowledgement: even though he knows he shouldn't care because he _doesn't_ _care_ what Keith thinks of him, since he doesn't like Keith. He takes a step back and away from Keith, feeling cold and a little empty at the lack of contact.

Pulling on a haughty look, he starts, "Glad you—"

"What happened?"

All of Lance's pleased feelings are whisked away by Keith's tone. "I became a Vampire," he says, trying to smirk and make it seem like the decision was purposeful when in reality it was due to his own mistakes, his own stupid naïveté.

"Were you _in_ Daibazaal?" His voice is too eager, and it makes Lance more uncomfortable than he'd care to admit.

"Not exactly."

He doesn't look like he believes Lance. "But you know the area."

"I might."

 _Keep him as food until your thirst is quenched_.

"So _you're_ trying to go to Daibazaal?" Lance says with as much casualness as he can muster, though his heart is racing and his mouth is dry and he really doesn't even want to be talking to Keith at all (except that he does). He shoves aside the dark thoughts of his vampiric side, forces himself to think of a plan.

"Yes." Keith looks at Lance, tilting his head questioningly. Lance wonders the question he's trying to ask. _Are you also trying to go? Why did you leave? Why are you lying?_

Of all the things he's expecting of Keith, he doesn't know if he's surprised to hear that Keith wants to head into Daibazaal. From what Lance remembers of the place, though, no matter how great of a Hunter Keith is, the sheer _number_ of Vampires would be overwhelming. Most places can't even be accessed without the presentation of fresh Vampire blood. And for a Human with blood that smells so _delectable_. . .

The mental image of someone other than Lance getting to beat Keith in a fight doesn't sit right with him. He feels a strange sort of churning in his stomach, and he can't help the thought of himself getting to sink his fangs into Keith's pretty white neck and drink his fill of blood.

 _You're the only one who can do that,_ laughs a voice in his head. _Just do it now and drain him before someone else can._

"You're an idiot." Lance swallows and looks away, ignoring the stinging of his fangs, the sudden dryness of his throat. He doesn't know if he's talking to himself (this stupid hungry Vampire voice in his head) or to Keith.

"I need a Vampire to get me into their main fortress," Keith says, not even bothering with small talk before throwing the implications at him. He glances at Lance from underneath his bangs, his violet eyes piercing. "And I have questions."

"What makes you think I can answer them?" Lance shoves his hands in his pockets, but his tone is teasing, pulling Keith in.

His abdomen and arm are completely healed now, though he'll have to sew the tears in his clothes from Keith's handiwork. Again. He sees Keith shift on his feet, and he's a little thankful that being a Vampire means he doesn't tire as easily, that standing here and talking to Keith doesn't make his legs tired. Very little tires him out, now, notwithstanding Keith's _charming_ personality.

(It makes him wonder how long Keith has been standing here, waiting for Lance to arrive.)

"Look." Keith sighs and crosses his arms, and Lance can feel Keith's piercing gaze, though they are not making eye contact. "I don't care _how_ you know, but it's not efficient to keep lying about it."

Lance would rather not know anything about Daibazaal at all, but it seems Keith is focusing more on whatever his goal is, and that's a bit of a relief. He hasn't even talked to Hunk about all this, and if he isn't telling his _best friend_ about what happened, he certainly isn't going to be telling _Keith_. "So, what? You need me to take you there? Answer your questions?"

"Yeah."

He doesn't _want_ to go back to Daibazaal, he doesn't _want_ to be reminded of everything that happened while he was there. He'd be walking right back to where it had all happened, and he isn't sure if he's ready for that. Keith is asking him to relive his past experiences and return to that horrible place. What if they recapture Lance? What if they capture Keith and make him suffer through the same experience? The idea of it makes his skin feel colder and his stomach drop.

"Why should I help you?" 

It's such a bad idea. Lance knows it's a bad idea. Every way of thinking about it is a bad idea. He doesn't even know why he's going to suggest it, but, at the same time, he doesn't know who _else_ he would ask. There's a reason they both see each other so frequently, they both have the same goal in mind. It wouldn't hurt Lance to have Keith around.

"I'm not killing you," Keith offers with a wry smile.

"Ha ha." Lance rolls his eyes. "Like you could stake me."

"You willing to bet on that?" Keith smirks, eyes sparkling, and Lance's mouth suddenly feels dry.

"Wouldn't that be _inefficient_?" Lance throws back, mirroring Keith's smirk.

There's a moment of silence, where Lance wonders if it's too soon for joking between them, and then Keith is nodding, as though the silence was just a moment of consideration for him. Lance almost laughs at how agreeable Keith is being, though he bites his tongue so he doesn't say anything and ruin this moment of amicability between them.

He wonders why Keith is choosing him of all Vampires. He probably attracts a horde of Vampires hungry for his blood, and any of them would be willing to drag him to Daibazaal.

Besides, Keith isn't the trusting type. Lance is trustworthy, but how would Keith know that?

"You'd really help _me_?" Keith seems disbelieving, an innocence in his tone that Lance is surprised to hear from someone he's always associated with arrogance.

"Take you to Daibazaal? Answer some questions?" Keith nods, and Lance repeats, "What's in it for me?" He's smiling so his fangs are more obvious, so Keith knows exactly what he's dealing with.

Maybe he doesn't know what Keith is looking for from him, but he does know what he can get from Keith. This Hunter wants answers and a path to Daibazaal, which Lance can provide.

Lance. . . might need the same thing. He doesn't know the details, exactly, but Hunk mentioned getting into Altea and maybe needing a partner. . .

"I don't have anything to offer you," Keith says at last.

 _Your blood_ , Lance's mind supplies helpfully, taunting him. He rakes his eyes over Keith's body, taking in the slight cock of his hip, his crossed arms, his pouting lips. His _deliciously_ pale neck, unmarked by any Vampire. Lance is sure that getting to bite Keith just _once_ , having Keith pliant and vulnerable in his hands, warm blood spilling into his mouth, would be more than worth it.

(The darker part of him thinks of other things, of everything he could _take_.)

"I'll get back to you," Lance decides, shaking his mind free from the all-too-tempting thoughts of drinking a Human's (Keith's) blood. He doesn't know what he wants from Keith, though being able to hold something over Keith Kogane is a reward on its own. "You'll have to make it worth my time."

All he wants is to be Human again, and Keith can't give him that.

But. . . Daibazaal is near Altea. It would be impossible to get to Daibazaal without at least _passing_ Altea. Lance might not be able to enter Altea, but Keith definitely can. Is that what Pidge meant by a partner? If Lance does more research, figures out what Pidge was telling Hunk about entering Altea, then Keith could be an asset to Lance, could be instrumental in helping Turn Lance back.

Keith eyes him in slight suspicion, probably trying to decide if holding an open-ended bargain with a Vampire is worth his need to go to Daibazaal. A couple of minutes pass in silence. Keith, as clever as he can be, is also too quick to make decisions when opportunities present themselves, and he seems sure in his choice when he holds out his hand.

"Deal." Keith's voice is steady.

Lance takes Keith's hand in his, grasping it firmly. He's surprised at the warmth, shivering at the contact. He squeezes Keith's hand tighter than necessary, just because he can. Keith exhales in obvious annoyance, and Lance smirks.

"Deal," he agrees. It feels like a promise, despite all their secrets.

* * *

"You ran into _Keith_?" Hunk demands, dropping the book he was reading. "And you're still _alive_?"

"Okay, _rude_!" Lance plops onto the sofa next to Hunk, waving his arms dramatically. "I can beat Keith in a fight."

"That guy's like, kill first and ask later. How'd you get him to not kill you on sight?"

Lance knows the only reason is because Keith is looking for answers to something, but since he's telling the story, he figures he might as well embellish it. Hunk doesn't know that this isn't the first time they've run into each other, and that would either increase Hunk's worry or his suspicions (or both), and Lance doesn't know what would be worse. "I just flashed him my _dazzling_ smile, and. . ."

Hunk snorts at all the right parts of the story, always an avid listener with the perfect commentary to keep Lance in check (but also make fun of Keith at the right times).

"And get this, Hunk, he wants _my_ help with something."

Hunk's eyes narrow in distrust, and he sits up to interrogate. "Why does he want your help? For what? Is he going to hurt you?"

Lance's thoughts race through different explanations, as he doesn't want to explain the Daibazaal thing just yet. Hunk doesn't need to know what had happened, and Lance doesn't want Hunk to be plagued with worry while he and Keith are traveling and Hunk is studying at the Garrison.

Keith isn't the ideal traveling partner, but his travel plans grant Lance the opportunity he needs to start working toward something instead of moping and sitting around. He loves spending time with Hunk, but Hunk has to head back to the Garrison now that their school break is over, and Lance doesn't want to drag his best friend down with his mood.

With this, he feels like he's doing things again. He wanted to go to the Garrison and learn to be a Hunter for a reason, and this is one step to not only pursue that goal again but to also possibly make a difference in future Vampire affairs.

"He wants me to explain some Vampire things. . ." Lance swallows. "And he wants me to lead him"—he can't say Daibazaal, Hunk is too smart to not put the pieces together and discover part of Lance's history—"somewhere near Altea."

"How do you know he's not lying?" Hunk asks immediately. "What if he wants to get the jump on you and do weird _Hunter things_ to you?"

"Okay, what 'weird Hunter things' would _Keith_ even do?"

_Offer his delectable neck as a blood source for your hunger._

"I don't know!" Hunk gives Lance a serious look, shaking his head. "I don't know if you should trust him."

"I'm strong enough that I can handle whatever he throws at me."

"I _know_ , but I'm worrying anyway!"

"You wouldn't be Hunk if you didn't worry just a little." Lance smiles, wrapping his arms around Hunk in a hug. His heart feels like it's beating loudly enough for Hunk to hear. They're still going to have a few days together, but it feels like a goodbye. "I'll come back as soon as I drop him off."

"Is this a delivery mission or something?" Hunk laughs. "You're taking him somewhere and protecting him along the way?"

It is a delivery mission, of sorts, Lance realizes now that he thinks about it. He's helping Keith get to Daibazaal, though he isn't sure the exact extent of 'protecting' he would be doing. The idea of dropping Keith off in Daibazaal and leaving him with hordes of hungry Vampires makes his stomach twist.

 _You could at least drink from him first_.

"Like Keith needs protecting."

He's there to answer Keith's questions and to guide him toward Daibazaal. But Keith could do that all on his own, Lance is sure, so he pauses and bites his lip, lets the sting of his fangs distract him. Does Keith need him for something else? Is he expecting entry into the Daibazaal palace?

Lance needs a Human for something similar. . .

Hunk hums in affirmation. "What's he doing for you then?" Lance shrugs. He's playing with the idea of going through Altea to get to Daibazaal, instead of taking the path around Altea and the other territories. Then they'd both get something out of it, and it would be worth the suffering through Keith's company.

He doesn't like that Keith is planning something and he isn't sure of the details. Part of him wants to work with Keith so he can figure it out, so he can understand why Keith wants to go to the Vampire capital so badly he's willing to travel with a Vampire.

"Wait!" Lance startles at the increased volume of Hunk's voice, jumping out of his own thoughts. "Is he going to be _feeding_ you?"

 _Yes_.

"What!  _No!_ "

Hunk looks surprised at Lance's impassioned reaction, but he doesn't mention it. Hopefully he decides Lance's answer is related to his aversion to drinking Human blood rather than any particular hatred (desire) for Keith's blood. Other than Hunk and the first Human girl—who Lance prefers not to think about—Lance hasn't had much blood and would prefer to avoid it as long as possible before he forces himself to drink for survival.

"So. . ." There's so much concern in Hunk's gaze. "How are you going to feed?"

Lance remains silent; he hasn't thought about it at all. He had forgotten about his dietary restrictions, somehow, so focused on finding the truth behind Keith's desire to make it to Daibazaal (so focused on the possibility of getting to Altea and finding a way out of this Vampire predicament).

"There are. . . the Bloodhouses. If you'd want to use them."

Hunk looks appropriately ashamed to mention them. Bloodhouses have such a bad reputation in the Garrison, in the village, in his family. They're underground buildings, in a way, housing Humans and Immortals who offer their blood to Vampires in exchange for the euphoric feeling that comes from the Vampire venom (or the promise of true immortality, if the Vampire is willing). Lance wasn't comfortable with the idea of them when he'd been Human, and he's even less comfortable with the idea now that he would be one of the people offering his venom for blood, perpetuating the cycle.

Vampire venom releases endorphins, which in turn triggers the release of more endorphins in the victim offering blood. It makes the exchange something pleasurable for both parties, so long as the Vampire releases the venom.

(When Lance first fed on the Human girl, he did not have the strength to produce the necessary endorphins to make the experience even slightly tolerable for his victim. He pictures her when he closes his eyes and thinks for too long, when he's alone and no one can distract him from the darkness of his own thoughts. He tries to focus on other things, instead.)

"I don't think so." Lance tries to keep the disdain from his voice. He knows the people who work in the Bloodhouses have no other options or were forced into it or simply enjoy the feeling, and he has nothing against them. It's the fact that Vampires would use people in such a way that has him furious.

"I gave blood to you recently," Hunk says thoughtfully. "When are you leaving?"

_"We're meeting later, when the sun's down."_

_Despite how obvious it is from their conversation that Lance is a Vampire, both of them forget that Lance can't be in direct sunlight. It is only when the painful burning of the rising sun's rays start scalding his face that he scrambles into the shade of a tree. He is pulling up his hood as Keith laughs at him, and he is frozen mid-action just listening._

_"Let's meet at twilight, then?" Keith offers, hiding his mouth behind his hand._

_(hearing and seeing Keith laugh makes him want to smile too, and he has to force down the urge to pull his lips into his signature smirk)_

"I can probably give you more blood." Hunk's voice pulls Lance from his memories. "There's also the few vials we have for some of the downtimes." Lance doubts they're going to wait that long to leave. Keith is impatient and impulsive and would want to leave without properly planning their journey. It's been at least a year since Keith's dropped out of school, and that's probably been enough time for Keith. Hunk seems to read that on Lance's face. "Keith could probably feed you, too."

The mental image of brushing aside Keith's inky black hair and breathing in his delicious scent and sinking his fangs into Keith's soft, pale neck is too much, and Lance shakes his head violently.

"I'll think of something."

Hunk gives him a look.

"Something _else_!"

The sun setting cannot come fast enough.

Lance is accustomed to sitting around the shack waiting for time to pass so he can get fresh air, but now that he has something to do (someone to see), time drags even slower. He helps Hunk pack for the Garrison, practices his aim by throwing and running to catch one of the throwing stars he'd picked off the ground from the Hunter pair the other night, writes more letters to his family because he misses them too much to leave them worrying about him, attempts to maintain his skin and appearance by using a blurry reflection from the glass on the table. Sewing up the tears in his clothes doesn't even take as long as it should.

He asks Hunk if he can read a few of Pidge's letters, the ones that talk about Vampires in particular. Hunk doesn't bother hiding his suspicion, offering a translation of the coded portions of Pidge's letters so Lance knows more than enough to formulate a plan.

"This part basically says Vampires can enter Altea through underground caves, if they're with an Immortal partner."

Even with new ideas in his head and Hunk's constant questions and explanations and jokes about his new _friendship_ with Keith, the day still takes forever.

"We're not _friends_!" Lance insists repeatedly, with more fury than necessary, though he can't think of a word to describe what they are. "I can't be friends with _Keith_!"

Hunk laughs.

* * *

Lance sees Keith's small form from a distance, pulling his lips into a smirk as he bolts forward to try and startle the Hunter.

He's inches away from Keith in seconds, quiet and light on his feet, but Keith has already drawn out his blade and has it poised at Lance's neck, squinting in the new darkness.

"Lance," he greets, smirking. He flips the knife expertly and slides it back into its sheath. "You're late."

"It was a little too sunny earlier," he says, stretching his arms as though he didn't just pretend to attack Keith. He shouldn't have expected any less than Keith deftly blocking him, but Keith's fighting skills have always found ways to surprise him.

Keith nods, gesturing at the grass. "Sit."

"What, the _legendary_ Keith Kogane is _tired_?"

"Stop calling me that," Keith snaps, "and I've been busy, unlike _some_ people." He shifts on his feet, and Lance feels a mixed sense of jealousy that he doesn't have those Human behaviors any longer and relief that he no longer tires.

Lance gestures at the ground in a mimic of Keith's actions. "You sit first."

Keith crosses his arms. " _You_ sit."

"I'm not the one who's _tired_."

"Sit _down_ , Lance."

"After you!"

"Vampires first!"

"Tired _Humans_ first!"

Their eyes meet, briefly, and Lance is startled yet again by the pretty purple of Keith's eyes. It almost makes him happy to have a Vampire's senses, the ability to see so clearly in the dark of night. Keith quickly looks away, knowing better than to maintain eye contact with a Vampire, which would be a fatal mistake if Lance were any other person. Lance wishes he were normal, that he could look into someone's eyes again. Hunk maintains eye contact, but after Lance accidentally Compelled Hunk to do his chores, they're both appropriately wary despite their mutual trust of each other. Lance just doesn't trust himself.

Neither Keith nor Lance ends up sitting. Lance is pleased at the slight height difference between them, which he is quick to point out.

Keith crosses his arms and huffs. "I don't need that inch to kill you."

"Trigger-happy, much?"

He looks confused by Lance's phrasing, changing the subject. "We should leave tomorrow night."

"That's. . . soon," Lance mumbles helpfully. It's what he was expecting of Keith, but he hasn't had the time to plan, to _feed_. They need to map a route. Keith would need to pack. There's so much planning that needs to be done.

"I've been idle long enough."

"Oh? Finally going to tell me what you're planning in Daibazaal?"

"Your job is to answer questions, not ask them."

Lance debates the idea of asking Keith for his blood, deciding better of it. He's sure he can survive anything without resorting to asking Keith for help. Besides. If he's lucky, he might not need to feed any longer at all.

"Then the quickest way is through Altea," Lance says slowly, testing the waters, the idea that's been buzzing in his head all day. It's not exactly a lie, but he's not being completely honest about his reasons for passing through Altea, either. Keith isn't being that forthcoming about his reasons for going to Daibazaal, so it's only fair. Since they'd need to pass through Altea anyway, it isn't worth losing a potential promise or reward from Keith for doing all this in the first place.

"They don't let Vampires in Altea."

"No."

But Altea does let Hunters in, and if Keith, the greatest Hunter of his generation, is willing to bring in a new Vampire looking for a way to be Turned back, then that's hardly a problem. Altea wouldn't turn away Keith Kogane, would they?

Pidge mentioned a way in, and Keith will be the partner to do it.

"If it's the quickest way," Keith agrees, after several minutes of silence. It makes Lance a little more suspicious of why Keith needs him for Daibazaal, how much he really knows. What does he think will happen to the two of them in Altea? What does he expect will happen in Daibazaal? Keith's decision-making skills are questionable, but Lance isn't about to lose on his chance to get to Altea (his chance to understand Keith's thinking).

"It is."

"You can't enter Altea, though. They have Immortals conjuring barriers all the time."

"I know someone in Altea who would know," Lance says confidently. Again, it's not exactly a lie. He knows Hunk who knows Pidge who knows the princess. Keith seems appeased.

They talk into the night, detailing plans and discussing ideas for hours and hours. Lance never would have thought he could have such extensive conversations with Keith, and though there are plenty of lapses in conversation, they're quick to pick up again.

He feels strangely normal for the first time in a long time, and he hates crediting it to this stupid Hunter, but then Keith rolls his eyes at something Lance says, and he knows exactly why.

* * *

Keith hasn’t had many conversations in the past year since Shiro’s disappearance, so he’s pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to talk to Lance.

In the Garrison, Lance always seemed like the type who could talk to anyone and make them feel special (in a way, he feels that now, that even though Lance doesn’t really like him, he still makes Keith feel like hanging onto Lance’s every word, watching his every expression). Keith would look on and feel a twinge of jealousy, then try to tune him out by focusing on his own skills. He entered the Garrison to become a good Hunter, not to make friends, and he’d been lucky enough to have met Shiro that he didn’t think he needed anything or anyone else.

Of course, like everything in Keith’s life, things went wrong and Shiro went missing and Keith got himself expelled from the Garrison. The time between then and now has been lonely, and most of his socializing since that time has been when he’s had to talk to himself and when he’s been fighting Vampires and the few Galra he’s been lucky enough to encounter.

He hadn’t realized the extent of his loneliness until meeting Lance.

Now that he’s finally talking to Lance, he’s more curious than ever about what happened, and why Lance is a Vampire, a _Galra_ Vampire.

Their conversations are carefully neutral, focused on the task at hand, the journey they’ll be making together. Lance cracks the occasional joke, though, so the situation feels more normal. Keith wonders if this is what it would have felt like if he’d stayed in the Garrison, if he and Lance had become Hunter partners. If Shiro had come back after his journey to Altea, as he was supposed to, would Keith and Lance have become friends?

He and Lance aren’t friends, though. He can see that Lance doesn’t like him, from the way Lance looks at him, the ferocity in their exchanges until this point, the way he clenches his fists every time Keith so much as breathes in his direction. They will be traveling companions at best, and Keith has never traveled with a Vampire before.

(Part of him wonders if Lance is feigning kindness now for a reason. Lance doesn't seem like that kind of person, but there are moments in their conversations where Lance looks angry or irritated, and Keith knows it's because he's done something. He just doesn't know what.)

When they eventually travel together, he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to act. He has to change his sleeping habits (not that he slept that much anyway) so they can travel at night; he’ll have to be extra vigilant, to ensure Lance doesn’t try taking his blood without permission.

Keith has never been bitten before, and he’d like to keep it that way. Even when he hadn’t stockpiled enough of the Garrison’s weapons and he’d been fighting Galra on his own with just his knife, no Vampire had gotten close.

 _You smell_ delectable _little Hunter, how about giving us a taste?_

 _Such a small, stupid Human, thinking you can win against a Vampire._  

He doesn’t know what time it is, but they’ve been out here for a long time and talking this much is surprisingly tiring, so Keith feels his eyelids getting heavy as the night progresses. He doesn’t trust this Vampire enough to fall asleep near him (though he supposes that he’ll have to move past that within the next day or so if he plans on being at peak strength by the time they find Shiro), and he doesn’t want to show any weakness by passing out near a being that doesn’t need sleep. He wonders when he should leave.

“Who are you going to drink?” Keith asks without preamble, and, based on Lance’s glare, he could have phrased it better. Maybe he could have, but this is the fastest way to get to his point.

(Shiro always told him to pause and think before saying things, but Keith’s never been good at following direction.)

He wonders if he’s supposed to provide blood for Lance, if it’s an unspoken part of his deal with a Vampire. The alternative is that he stands aside and watches as Lance hunts other Humans, and that idea infuriates him; it makes him feel like a useless Hunter, letting other people get harmed. He’d rather be Lance’s blood source. He’d become a Hunter-in-training because one of the professors had seen potential in him, and he continued the training after meeting and working with Shiro. The more he’d been fed the motto and had been trained to help and protect, the more he knows that this is what he was meant to do.

Shiro helped give him goals and a future, and he's going to follow them.

He wants to protect the Humans who cannot protect themselves. Vampires had not affected him personally until Shiro’s disappearance (though he has some suspicion about their role in his childhood), but he knows he can play a role in Human lives and he wants to help, more than anything. 

But should he be offering his blood to Lance? Would Lance even want to bite him? Vampire venom can be addicting, the bite itself something either violent or sensual, and Keith has heard of the effects the bites have on people. He doesn’t think he’d get to that point, but he can’t let something so simple sway him from his mission. He doesn’t know what he wants from this.

Lance’s voice pulls Keith from his thoughts. “I’m bringing blood from a friend.”

Oh. Keith sighs in relief, and from the look on Lance’s face, he must have been too obvious. His caretakers always found him too expressive, and it’s often gotten him into difficult situations, but he prefers being straightforward. He didn’t realize Lance still has Human friends.

“How often do you feed?”

“I can last a couple days.”

“Would that be enough?”

“It’s not a problem, Keith.” Lance's tone says the conversation is ending there, and it pulls Keith from his own thoughts. Though Keith refuses to meet any Vampire’s eyes, he feels the intensity of Lance’s stare burning into his skin.

Keith can’t think of anything he can say to restart their dialogue.

As they discussed, Earth is on the border of Altea, so getting to the border and the caves would be half a night at most. The issue is that they need to find a specific portion of the border, where the underground caves will provide safe access into Altea itself. Safe access for even a Vampire.

He would like more specifics, like how no other Vampires have gotten into Altea before if all they need is a Human companion and a path to these caves, but Lance doesn’t seem too forthcoming with details about _anything_. Not that Keith is going to give details about his own desires to make it to Daibazaal, but he'd still like to know more about Lance.

He's more than a little suspicious of Lance's need to travel through Altea specifically. It's more work (and probably more time) if they take Lance's way and sneak through Altea's borders, but Keith needs a Galra Vampire and Lance is his best chance.

("Oh, you're looking for _him_? Pity. . ." The Galra sneers, and Keith is too impulsive, staking her before she can provide more details. He learns and finds another Galra.)

Keith doesn't  _want_ to bring a Vampire into Altea, a place renowned for not letting Vampires though its walls. But if Lance were a more bloodthirsty Vampire, he probably would have killed and drank from the Hunters from earlier (or Keith himself, considering Lance has made it clear he isn't a big fan of Keith). He's confident enough in his own skills that he'll take Lance down if Lance tries anything funny.

If Lance seems like he's going to report any secrets of Altea to the other Galra, Keith knows what he has to do.

 

But the lack of conversation reminds Keith that he’s tired, and he feels his eyelids fluttering again, his body sagging. He’s been awake since at least some time before sunrise the day before, and through stubbornness has been standing up through their conversations all night. He takes a few steps backward to lean against the trunk of a tree for support, hoping the Vampire doesn’t notice.

“Let’s meet at sundown.” Lance’s voice crashes through the silence between them, and Keith startles. Had he fallen asleep? “You sure you want to leave tonight?”

Keith blinks several times, eyes wide as he glances at Lance’s face, then down and back to the distance as the sun is rising. The sunlight isn’t enough that it bothers Lance yet, and he wonders the exact limit before it becomes too much for a Vampire. He'll have to ask about it.

“What?”

“You’re not too _sleepy_?” The mirth in Lance’s tone means Keith must have dozed off for a bit.

He feels his face grow warm. He didn’t think he was comfortable enough to fall asleep, no matter how tired he was. Even in the basement, he’s always on edge, alert in case the family decides they want to visit that portion of their house. He scowls at Lance. Of course, the _Vampire_ wouldn’t have felt tired after over a day of activity. He’ll have to adjust to the change in sleeping schedule, but he knows he can handle Lance.

“I’ve been ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of Keith's POV? they've progressed to possible friendship?? how will Lance feed? and is Keith going to be able to get them to Altea? let me know your thoughts!!
> 
> (also pls [talk to me](http://ssuppositiouss.tumblr.com) about s5 holy poooooop)


	4. beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update!! 
> 
> i had a snow day (and then i had to shovel snow and i p much died) and i'll be on spring break so i'm writing as much as i can before updates will become a bit more sporadic again. now the journey begins!
> 
> we're still not at the chapter that will feature the first artwork by [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com) but stay tuned!

**so it begins, with a shaky foundation of trust**

The atmosphere surrounding him and Hunk as they pack their lives out of their shack is somber, and Lance feels Hunk's quick, repeated glances at him but pretends he doesn't notice.

Lance isn't as ready as Keith. Yes, they spent the whole night talking, but it isn't enough to make him sure that this whole adventure is a good idea. They both need each other for something, but they both haven't trusted the other with their full story. The only Human with whom he's been in close contact since he Turned is Hunk, and that's because Hunk is an understanding person who keeps Lance in check and provides just enough blood that he hasn't lost himself yet.

Keith isn't like that. There is no element of trust between them, and Lance doesn't know if he _wants_ to work that closely with Keith. How can Keith trust him, if he can't trust himself? There's a reason he stays away from Humans, a reason he's been hiding in a shack in the woods, avoiding contact with other people.

(But he hasn't felt the same urge to feed from other Humans as he has felt for Keith, not even when Hunk is literally bleeding and the blood is mere inches from his lips, and he hates hates _hates_ that Keith is the catalyst for such a reminder that he is, indeed, a Vampire.)

Keith is still the blunt, stubborn show-off he was in school, and Lance isn't about to look past their months of rivalry because they suddenly have a common goal.

Hunk is his best friend, the reason he's still sane enough to go on a journey with _Keith_ of all people. It's not a nice feeling, to be leaving each other behind, even if it's necessary and something they mutually agree needs to be done.

The day passes much too quickly for Lance's liking, and Lance reads through Pidge's letters again a few more times to make sure he's learned everything. Most of what she's written to Hunk is in code, but Hunk has translated the letters for Lance's temporary use.

_All I know is that they have their own magical barriers preventing anyone from breaking the walls or trying to dig out of them. They're difficult enough to locate and navigate, but once you're in the caves, they're a maze. It seems like a fun challenge, but I can't go in myself. You need to go in the caves with someone else, and neither person can be affected by magic. No Vampire can get in alone, and the Immortal who gives entry would need to be free of Compulsion._

_Crazy, right? I use nature magic, myself, and I can't even begin to understand the intricacies behind the years of spellwork that keep these caves sentient. They can tell when there's manipulation afoot, but I don't know if they can understand if anyone is being threatened or blackmailed. It seems like a gap in the magic, something that could potentially let Vampires waltz right in. That's not even considering the non-manipulative mutual agreements between Immortals and Vampires for protection and potentially empty promises._

_If you're ever visiting Altea, you and I should team up and try figuring out these magics. I know you're not an Immortal, but after your advice on the quantum generator, I know Team Punk can definitely solve a centuries-long mystery!_

_It's really frustrating, but the Great Library has no record of why the caves are still standing, let alone why they exist in the first place. The Princess hasn't mentioned anything about them, but I suspect they're a trap. I need to do more research as to where the caves lead in Altea. But I know that outside the barrier, they look completely innocuous. They're harmless flowers._

Lance folds the letters back into their envelopes and stacks them neatly on the table for Hunk to destroy before he heads to the Garrison again. He appreciates that Hunk is so open with this information, even if he's not entirely sure what Lance is using it for.

"I, uhh, have some blood for you," Hunk mumbles, when Lance finally looks up to meet his friend's eyes. He holds out a brown pouch, and Lance can hear the way the glass tubes clink against each other inside the fabric. It'll hook to his belt easily, blood right at his fingertips if he needs it. "You fed too recently for me to give more."

He won't have to feed off another Human, won't have to overthink the warm presence of Keith's blood, won't have to visit any Bloodhouses. Hunk is easing most of his worries with this gesture, helping Lance more than he could ever know.

"Hunk," he breathes, overwhelmed, "you're the best."

"I know." Hunk smiles wide, placing the bag onto the nearby table so he can hug his friend. "Sure you don't need me to come with?"

Having Hunk with him would make the journey infinitely easier. He wouldn't have to make stilted small talk with Keith, would have something else to focus on instead of the smell of Keith's blood, the thoughts of Daibazaal and the Galra and his past. He wants to say yes. He wants Hunk to be part of his path back to humanity, wants his best friend to watch him become Human again.

But that is selfish.

Lance pulls out of the hug, plasters a huge smile on his face, and forces out a laugh. Dealing with Vampires and breaking into Altea is not part of Hunk's story. Leading Keith and Hunk to Daibazaal would be too much. Hunk goes through the motions of becoming a Hunter because it's required; his goal has always been to create the weapons they use, to help the Humans become as strong as they can be. He doesn't want Hunk to be there if this fails, doesn't want Hunk in danger if something goes wrong. "Then _you_ 'd have to talk to Keith, too."

Hunk frowns. "It might be good to have backup."

"Against _what_?"

"Well. . . He's _Keith_."

Lance is mildly offended. "And I'm _Lance_!" His voice cracks as his tone rises, but he can't bring himself to care. "He couldn't beat me before, he can't beat me now!"

Hunk starts laughing, so Lance knows he's only teasing. "You've always been weird about Keith, man."

"Weird, how?" Does Hunk know about the darker thoughts that shuffle through his mind too frequently, whenever the wind carries Keith's scent, whenever Keith _blushes_? (Lance blushes at the thought, and it infuriates him more.) He starts thinking about other things, so those thoughts don't invade again.

"But now it's just going to be you two"—he makes a weird gesture that Lance doesn't even _want_ to understand—"and what if he takes advantage of you and stakes you when you're not looking?"

"Rude! I'd stake him, _first_!" Lance pauses to think of the implausibility of this entire conversation, then shakes his head. Keith couldn't take advantage of him, and the idea of staking the Hunter makes something unpleasant churn in his stomach. "He needs me. And I'm stronger than him now."

He doesn't know how much of that is true.

Hunk looks like he wants to say more, but he sighs and adjusts the bag he's been packing and repacking for days. "I'm just going to miss you. Keith gets to spend all that time with you, and I'll just be stuck at the Garrison."

"If you come with me, you'll be stuck with Keith _and_ you won't get to see your mom when she visits."

Mentioning Hunk's mom reminds Lance of the family he hasn't seen in so long. He misses Marco, and Luis, and Veronica. He misses his primos, his abuelitos, his mami. He wants to go home so badly, he feels his fingernails digging into his palms.

He can't go home like this. If he can barely control himself around Keith, how will he manage himself around his family? They'd have to invite him inside, as he won't be able to enter without their permission. They'd want to know his story, and he isn't ready to share what happened with _anyone_. They'd want to accept him, but he won't let them. Vampires are dangerous _monsters_ , he's a _monster_.

All he can do is write letters, but that will stop being enough, soon.

He doesn't know what to do when that happens.

"True." Hunk twiddles his fingers, jolting Lance from his self-loathing. Hunk definitely has more he wants to say, but Lance won't let him say it. He schools his face into a happier expression, forces his thoughts of his family behind.

"You will be careful, right? Don't run into any other Vampires, or any Hunters, and don't let Kei—"

"And to think I was going to miss you," Lance jokes, pulling Hunk into another hug before he says anything else.

"Get back safe, okay?"

Lance minds his strength in the hug, making sure not to squeeze Hunk too tightly, but he hugs his best friend as hard as he can and keeps his voice steady and smiling as he throws back, "You know me, I'll be back before you know it."

" _Sure_ , Lance."

"Send the letters to my family for me?"

"I always do."

* * *

They end up meeting when the sky is completely dark, because Lance and Hunk need to hug out a goodbye for some moments longer, and then it takes some persuading from Lance that he doesn't need Hunk dropping him off. Maybe if he liked Keith more, he'd let Keith meet Hunk, but there's no point since Keith's ultimate goal is wandering the Vampire territories alone.

He smells Keith before he sees him, his Vampire senses mapping out exactly where the Hunter is standing so Lance can properly survey the area. No one else is around, luckily, and he makes his way to where Keith is standing, arms crossed and leg bent as he leans against a tree. It's the same tree Keith fell asleep against earlier, and Lance bites back the smile teasing his lips as he thinks of how innocent Keith looked, the sun's rays lightly illuminating his pale face.

"You're late," Keith grumbles. He looks like he barely got any sleep despite how tired he'd been, and Lance figures it's from packing and planning for their travels, as Keith has a gray backpack with him.

Lance debated bringing his moisturizers, but a very bitter part of him remembers his lack of reflection and he doubts Keith has the skill to help him with skin regimen. He'll have to survive without it, which is frustrating, but maybe, soon enough, he'll have a reflection again.

He starts to say something, then closes his mouth.

Keith adjusts the bag on his shoulders, then looks to Lance without meeting his eyes. It looks like he's squinting. "Where to?"

Seeing Keith like this is strange. In this journey, Lance is the leader between them. He is the one who knows the path they're going to take, the one who knows the answers to the questions Keith wants to ask. Though Keith isn't making it obvious in that he's still stubborn and ready to argue with Lance every step of the way, he's still looking to Lance for directions.

Lance smiles. He's pretty useful, for this.

They walk in complete silence and a couple hours pass with Keith a few steps behind Lance, hand still on his blade. Lance is shuffling through potential conversation starters in his head, trying to decide the best one to keep Keith from saying something stupidly offensive.

He's sure Keith will say something offensive regardless, so he keeps silent for another while longer.

Lance listens for footsteps in the distance, for possible Hunters or Vampires nearby. He's out of practice in using a lot of the skills that come with being a Vampire, sure, but at least he can do this. He can sense animals and insects, but it is just Keith and Lance in the outskirts of the woods of Earth. The only sounds are the ones they make and of nature itself.

As they walk, the number of trees grows less and less, and the grass and dirt from the woods becomes a dirt path. Where Altea had always been visible in the distance, now it is easily reached. It's close enough to see. He isn't sure how much time has passed.

"Here's Altea!" Lance gestures at the edge of the territory.

Altea is, as Hunk explained to Lance previously, a coalition of peoples who had their territories ripped from them by more vicious Vampires. It directly borders Daibazaal, where the Galra reside, and therefore needs a strong border to prevent hostile Galra invasion. It serves as a safe haven for a lot of people because of its borders, and, as such, though Lance won't admit it to Keith, he has a chance of actually making it into Altea with Keith as a traveling partner.

The Altean border has magical reinforcements by strong Immortal soldiers, a central barrier erected by the Princess herself, and a specialized force guarding it at specific points.

Keith takes a step forward, and his hand passes through the barrier easily.

The barrier looks like a series of glowing hexagonal lights connecting around the entire territory like a wide dome. Lance extends his own hand to touch the barrier, and, for him, it is completely solid. His hand cannot pass through. It is a wall meant to keep him, all Vampires, out.

Keith glances at Lance's hand, humming in thought. There is a soft breeze around them, brushing gently against Lance's cheeks, pulling Keith's scent in Lance's direction. He scowls. Maybe _now_ it seems like Lance needs Keith more than Keith needs Lance, but that's while they're in Altea, where it's a lot safer and both of them aren't likely to die. Once they actually get to Daibazaal, Keith is _nothing more than the bag of blood he truly is_. Lance swallows, shoves aside the hungry, angry thoughts invading his mind.

He touches the pouch at his side, comforted by the sound of the glass vials tapping against each other. It's too early in their journey to be needing his blood reinforcements. He shouldn't let his darker thoughts take over.

Once they actually get to Daibazaal, Keith is going to need Lance, too.

Keith probably knows that, since he suggested they should travel together in the first place.

Lance starts walking toward where he knows there are some rock formations and open fields. From Pidge's letters, he's assuming the flowers would be around there.

Keith follows Lance carefully, graceful as ever though he walks much slower than usual. Lance knows it's because it's nighttime and the lights from the moon and the Altean city aren't enough to properly illuminate the path, but he still comments anyway. "Having trouble, Keith?"

There's a pause, then a definitely smirk in Keith's voice. "I'm just slowing down for the old hungry _Vampire_."

Rude! Lance is pretty much the same age he's always been, and Keith's presence is tempting his hunger (his skills of restraint), but he isn't _old_ or _hungry_. Lance doubts that Keith can go _that_ much faster. If Lance were to travel at full Vampire speed, Keith couldn't stand a chance. "I can carry you"—though the thought is unsettling, it would be a ridiculously quick journey if he carries Keith in his arms and sprints to where they need to be, as Vampire speeds can be nearly imperceptible to the Human eye—"if walking gets too hard for your little _Human_ legs."

By lucky coincidence (for Lance), Keith manages to trip on the uneven ground just as Lance finishes speaking. Lance moves reflexively, using Vampire instinct to steady Keith, catching him by the arm and righting him. From the sudden whiff of something sweet and all-too-tempting, Lance knows Keith is blushing.

Lance clears his throat, willing his own cheeks to stay cold, willing his mind to stay in control over his instincts, lips pulling into a smile that shows his fangs. "You were saying?"

Keith shoves at Lance's arm, and Lance laughs and pushes right back (though he's careful to keep his strength to a minimum, because as funny as it would be to watch Keith fly across the path, he really, _really_ doesn't want that).

"We're doing this to get through the Altean barrier," Keith starts, and Lance freezes.

Has Keith realized that Lance's goal is to get to Altea? He's sure he's been subtle, careful. Even Hunk doesn't know what Lance is trying to do. He's never liked trouble anyone with his worries or desires, not when Hunk has done so much for him already. And Keith isn't someone Lance sees himself talking to, particularly when this whole side trip through Altea is a detour for Lance that Keith doesn't really know about.

He's quick to continue moving, picking up his walking pace just enough that he hears Keith fumble to catch up. "We are."

"Does Daibazaal have anything similar?"

The temporarily relief that Lance feels knowing Keith _doesn't know_ is quickly dashed. He'd almost forgotten that interrogation was part of the deal, that Keith's blunt questioning was going to become commonplace. "What?" he snaps. "A barrier to keep _food_ from walking right in?"

" _No_." Keith scowls, aiming a dirty look at Lance's general direction. "To keep Humans from breaking into places. If they're hiding something."

Hiding something. Hiding some _one_.

Someone.

Lance remembers being in the cell, so many hallways and corridors and passages away from where he'd entered. It wasn't like they were hiding him; he was their experiment, something that they could benefit from if they were successful. The woman seemed thrilled at all of his reactions, no matter how emotional or emotion _less_ he was. She had so many questions and Lance could only answer a few before he was no longer useful. How long could a freshly Turned Vampire survive without Human blood? What could a Vampire drink instead?

_"Please. . ."_

_He's chained to the wall, too weak to move, to think, to breathe. He's hanging too high, feet nowhere near the ground. Everything aches._

_Maybe they stretched his insides and tangled them into something new, tearing away pieces of him, parts of what made him Human, torturing him physically and mentally. He doesn't remember any of it. Something must have happened, because the woman is laughing and laughing, her voice echoing in his skull, pounding his brain to mush. He can't see her behind his shut eyes, but he can hear her._  

_"Please," he begs. It doesn't sound like his voice. What is he begging for?_

He doesn't know these answers, doesn't know if he gave the Galra what they were trying to find. He doesn't know what they wanted from him (or maybe he does, and he's choosing to forget).

"What would they be hiding?" Lance replies instead, not bothering to look at Keith's face for a reaction. He walks a little faster again, but Keith is quick to catch up, now walking at Lance's side instead of behind him. His hand, though, is still close to his blade, ready to draw it at any moment. Of course.

"Prisoners," Keith says, glancing at Lance's eyes. The brief moment of eye contacts makes Lance shiver, and Keith looks away so quickly Lance isn't sure the moment occurred.

"Prisoners." The word tastes strange on his lips.

"You were there, weren't you?" Keith stops walking, and Lance has to stop, too. "Did you see—"

"I wasn't there." Lance cuts Keith off before he gets any further. 552623. He was just a number to them. He is just a number to everyone. One of many stupid monsters rampant on Earth. "Are you looking for someone?"

Keith blinks. "I'm asking you the questions."

"Ask better questions." From the way Keith squints at him, he can tell Keith can't see his smirk. Keith is looking for someone, then.

"You were in Daibazaal, once."

"I—"

 _They're forcing something into his mouth, past his tightly shut lips. He tries to push them aside, kicking and fighting with the minimal strength he has left, but something freezes him in place, keeps him hanging there and gasping gasping_ gasping _for air and then he's swallowing whatever they've given him and it's like shards of ice scraping their way down his dry and aching throat and he can't even_ scream—

"Lance." Keith is too serious, and inside him feels hollow. He's reaching toward Lance, though his hand remains hovering in the air, unsure of where to touch. Lance stares at it, stares at Keith, then takes a step back. Who does Keith think he _is_? What does he think he can _say_? Lance is a _Vampire_ and Keith is _nothing_. Keith's voice is uncharacteristically soft. "Were you a pris—"

"Did you hear that?" he demands, voice too loud for his own ears. He takes a large step away from Keith.

"Lance. . ."

" _Shush_ it, Keith." And with the same lucky coincidence as earlier, when Keith tripped at Lance's words, Lance's ears perk. He hears footsteps a distance away, in the direction they're headed, and it sounds like two people, a chase. He takes a breath. Maybe he can smell them?

Keith gives him an odd look, clearly disbelieving. "What's—"

"Shhh!"

Lance isn't amazing at using his Vampire senses, especially since he's so out of practice and hasn't been too eager to use these skills. He isn't about to admit that to Keith, and he doesn't need Keith distracting him further. He inhales, tries to sense if one of the pair might be a Vampire, then directs a glare at Keith. Unfortunately, the only thing he can smell is how close Keith is (so very close, _too_ close), how warm and delicious the blood pulsing through him must be.

 _Let his blood spill and why don't you_ see _how great your skills will be afterward._

Keith scowls, oblivious to Lance's thoughts and sudden aggravation (as usual). " _What_ , Lance?"

 _Just a taste, just a taste_.

The footsteps could be nothing. They probably are nothing. But Lance can't shake the feeling that it isn't nothing. He doesn't run on instinct like he is meant to as a Vampire, but he's observant, he's good at piecing together clues, solving puzzles that might not even be puzzles.

It's the middle of the night, and they're headed toward a very specific part of the Altean border of which only a few people should be aware. It takes another few seconds for him to decide, and then he runs off without even a glance back at Keith.

"Lance!"

He hears Keith call, hears Keith's footsteps bounding after him even as the distance between them increases. Keith can't run as fast as Lance, though, and if Lance waits for Keith to catch up, he could lose this lead. He doesn't need Keith there, anyway.

He loses himself in the feeling of running against the breeze, of letting his Vampire instincts control him for the briefest of moments. He lets it take him away from his past, from where Keith's awful questions were taking him. He just _runs_.

It takes about a minute for Lance to get where he needs to be—and, thankfully, it's an open field, but there isn't really grass. It's mostly dirt and rocks, a lot of weeds scattered about. It isn't the part of the border that leads to the caves, so maybe it really is just coincidence.

Then he freezes, his instincts catching up to his thoughts catching up to his senses.

There is a Vampire here.

He hasn't run into another Vampire since his return to Earth. A _Vampire_. A creature he hates being, a monster that created him, a being that shouldn't exist.

There is also a girl about Lance's age who most definitely is _not_ a Vampire. She is trembling, heart racing and scent wild and uninhibited, but she's determined. She doesn't look to be a Hunter. Is she Human? Why is she here?

She stands in a fighting pose, staring directly at the Vampire, and a beam of light aims toward the Vampire and surrounds him like a cloak of light. Lance hasn't seen magic like this since his time in Daibazaal, but he lets his initial awe fade so he can focus on the situation. She's an Immortal, then. The Vampire seems frozen behind the barrier she summoned, and Lance is curious about the type of magic she wields.

She seems confident in her magic, but a moment passes and she wavers, the light falling apart. With a sneer, the Vampire breaks out of whatever it was the light was supposed to do, then bounds toward the girl.

Lance jumps in the way before the Vampire can reach the Immortal, giving her time to flee.

The Vampire is large, towering over Lance to the point that even as he cranes his head upward he isn't at the right angle to best see the Vampire's face. His right eye is missing, a dark empty socket surrounded by raised purple scars, and something churns in Lance's stomach, a memory of when he'd been in Daibazaal, listening to the woman discussing how she wanted to experiment and upgrade some of the Vampires there.

_"But you don't get to be the upgrade. You're just our prototype."_

Lance doesn't know this Vampire, and from the way the Vampire appraises Lance and frowns, he doesn't know Lance, either.

Lance had always wondered if the Galra were looking for him. He supposes they don't care, and he prefers that, but did he go through that torture for everything to be forgotten? Was he really so worthless to them? Did his creation for them only end up hurting himself?

"Step aside." The Vampire's voice is deep, and he speaks in a confident monotone.

He wonders if there's some kind of unspoken Vampire code no one told him about, where you don't attack another Vampire if they're trying to feed, trying to hurt their own Immortal prey. Lance has been lucky enough that he hasn't had to interact with other Vampires (he's only ever run into Hunters, and even then it was mostly just _Keith_ ). This Vampire doesn't seem to want to fight Lance, its singular eye locked onto the small redheaded girl mumbling incantations behind Lance.

He hears Keith's footsteps approaching. In hindsight, maybe he should've told Keith to stay put. Keith would have ignored him, but at least he would've _tried_ to keep the idiotic Hunter from running headfirst into a fight between two Vampires and an Immortal with unknown magic.

The Vampire seems to notice the footsteps as well, from the perk of his ears, though his facial expression gives nothing away.

Lance isn't sure what to do at this point, but he figures saving the Immortal is his best bet. He bounds toward the girl when he feels the large hand grasp his arm—and the hold is so tight and heavy, it feels like a bruise will form though he's sure Vampires don't bruise—and throw him backward. He lets out a surprised shout until he collides with something.

He hits the ground hard, Lance angling himself so he doesn't crush the blood in his pack. The fall ends up awkward, and he feels his elbow jab into something soft. Lance jumps up, the feeling of the Vampire's grip fading and the feeling of being flung across a field gone.

Keith lets out a groan, and his voice is too breathless for Lance's liking. "You're a fucking rock."

"Oh."

Apparently he collided with Keith. He would feel worse about it, if Keith hadn't just irritated him with all his questions. Lance checks the vials of blood at his side, relieved to see they are all intact.

Keith gets up a little more slowly than Lance, rubbing his shoulder. Lance frowns. He knows that, as a Vampire, he's built sturdier than Humans, and his skin and body is a lot harder. When he crashed into Keith and they both landed awkwardly, had he caused his traveling partner injury? He doesn't want to _hurt_ Keith.

"Warn me, next time." Keith pulls his knife from its sheath, looking past Lance toward the Vampire in the distance.

"I heard this guy," Lance offers as explanation, not wanting to go into too much detail, since the other Vampire most likely has better senses. Appraising Keith shows he's as ready to jump into battle as ever, so Lance shrugs away any guilt he was feeling. "It took priority."

"You think he's trying to get into Altea, too?"

Lance sighs. So much for being subtle. He turns around to check if the Vampire has reacted (he's most definitely heard, from the way his lips have turned up in a smirk), then shrugs at Keith.

"I'll get the Galra Vampire," Keith decides. "You save the girl."

Somehow, the idea of Keith, the talented but impulsive Hunter, fighting this giant Galra doesn't seem possible. But Keith is already dashing toward the Vampire as though he hadn't just been complaining about Lance flying into him. Lance doesn't mind being the one to handle the Immortal, though.

The Immortal is on the ground at the Vampire's feet when Keith captures the Vampire's attention. There is no expression on the Vampire's face at Keith's entry (Keith's scent can't be something that only affects Lance), but his eye glints with something Lance can't read.

Keith jumps into motion, agile as he ducks under the Vampire's punch. The Vampire throws another punch at Keith, and Keith catches his fist, though Lance can see from Keith's slight trembling and the way he tripped a little that the punch is much harder than it appears. With a growl, the Vampire lifts his arm and tosses Keith aside. Keith lets out a heavy grunt, skidding on the dirt until the momentum fades and the dust scatters.

Lance is about to run to Keith—that _had_ to hurt, and Keith is so much _smaller_ than this Vampire, and Lance doesn't want Keith bleeding all over the place—but Keith lets out a breath and rises shakily, jumping up and running toward the Vampire again, blade out and ready to maim. He darts around the Vampire with grace, slashing at him with precise movements. He's every bit the greatest Hunter of the Garrison that he's always been.

The Immortal girl lets out a whine, and Lance bites his lip, casting another glance at the fight between Keith and the Vampire. He doesn't feel comfortable with this. Objectively, Keith is strong and can handle a fight with a Vampire, but they don't know what _this_ Vampire is capable of, and Lance doesn't want to sort through his memories to determine the upgrade this Vampire has possibly received.

Keith is swiping his blade at the Vampire's arm (and the Vampire lets out a screech of pain) when Lance finally looks away, reaching out a hand to the Immortal.

"Hey," he greets with a soft smile. Her hand is warm.

She is much too trusting as she takes Lance's hand, and the ease of their interaction almost makes him forget that he's a Vampire, too. She is small and reaches a little over Lance's shoulders, with long red hair sweeping down her back.

"Thank you."

She smiles at Lance, gray eyes shining and entire body exuding an aura of relief. Lance feels something warm burning inside him at her smile. She's making eye contact with him.

"Stay here." Lance turns back to Keith's fight, ready to jump in, when he sees Keith is pulling a stake out of the holster on his arm. He's _winning_?

He's always known Keith was a strong Hunter. It's been thrown in his face since school, and he's seen Keith's reflexes when they were half-heartedly fighting each other. But seeing Keith fighting seriously is a completely different feeling, and watching the smirk on his lips, the light in his eyes, the way his hair falls into his face as he's about to make a kill, is completely exhilarating.

The Immortal girl makes a panicked noise.

He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he sees the stake isn't entering the Vampire's body.

"What the—"

The Vampire is surrounded by a barrier of light.

The look of irritation on Keith's face would have made Lance laugh, but instead he turns to the Immortal who has conjured the barrier. "Why did you—"

"I got it!" she calls out, though her eyes are still trained on the Vampire.

Keith is slowly backing away from the Vampire, as though he doesn't believe the barrier will hold. His blade is in one hand and the stake is in the other, and when he finally makes it to Lance, he looks like he _needs_ a beauty nap.

"Care to explain why you waited until now to do that?" Keith's voice is icy.

The Immortal is not breaking eye contact with the Vampire, and Lance gets the feeling that her magic requires an intense concentration she couldn't conjure until Keith had the Vampire completely distracted.

Keith Kogane probably isn't used to being someone's distraction, though. He's used to being the fighter, the one taking and giving the brunt of attacks. It makes Lance a little too happy in explaining the Immortal's magic to Keith ( _obviously_ , she needs full concentration), and his smile widens when the Immortal seems to light up.

"Yes! Thanks for distracting him, Hunter." The Vampire appears unconscious under her barrier, though Lance isn't sure if it is through Keith's doing or the Immortal's. He remembers the intensity of the atmosphere when Keith was fighting, and, fighting the flush about to stain his cheeks, he decides to credit the Immortal. She definitely looks the part. "I'm headed to Altea, how about you?"

Keith doesn't say anything, looking to Lance to do the talking.

Lance realizes, in that moment, if he goes with _this_ Immortal through the caves of Altea, he doesn't need to travel with Keith at all. He won't need to answer Keith's questions, won't need to return to Daibazaal, won't need to torture himself with the smell of his blood. He won't be forced to relive his experiences for whatever it is that Keith can't seem to trust Lance to tell. He and Keith haven't decided what Keith is supposed to give in exchange, anyway, so he isn't losing anything.

He sees Keith shift on his feet, staring too intently at Lance (making a point of not meeting his eyes, of course), and he knows he can't betray Keith's trust. He may not like Keith, and they both don't fully trust each other, but they're in this together.

He lets out a frustrated sigh that surprises everyone. He and Keith don't really know or trust each other, and he doesn't want to betray Keith.

"Uhh." Keith looks like he's going to reach for Lance, but his hands pause mid-motion. His weapons are still drawn, and the entire action is just awkward to watch. "Are you—"

The Immortal runs her fingers through her hair, and Lance sighs, letting her scent fill his senses rather than Keith's scent. She smells nice, soft and sure, and it reminds him of being by the sea.

"We're going to Altea, too," Lance says, the words spilling from his mouth without him thinking. It is worth it when he sees the Immortal beam and Keith pout. The pouting is kind of funny.

"Let's travel together."

Lance's lips twist into a frown. That wouldn't be a good idea at all, and that wasn't his intention in mentioning it.

Some part of him is just talking and saying things to rile up Keith, because he's still mad that Keith had asked such pointed, direct questions about his time in Daibazaal. Another part of him just wants to say things to keep this Immortal talking to him, helping him feel normal and Human.

"Actually," Keith starts, though it's so obvious from his tone and his face that he's about to lie badly, "we're not—"

"Actually," Lance cuts him off, "I'm just helping this guy get to a specific part of Altea. He's scared of Vampires."

Keith gives Lance a dirty look, which the Immortal isn't able to see because she's still using her magic on the other Vampire. Lance sticks out his tongue, and Keith squints at Lance, as though he isn't sure if he saw the gesture correctly. He puts the stake back into its holster, but he continues holding his blade, eyeing the Immortal and then Lance in suspicion.

Does he think Lance is working with the Immortal?

"He wasn't scared just now," she jokes. Then, with a smirk, she adds, "He's not scared of you?"

Lance sucks in a breath, keeping his gaze trained on the Immortal. "He thinks I'm too pretty."

" _Lance_!" Keith's face is definitely red and definitely blushing, and Lance is glad he had the foresight to hold his breath.

"How did you run into the Vampire, anyway?"

The Immortal says something in a non-Earthen language before finally dragging her eyes away from the Vampire. "Do you think he's safe to leave like that? Or should I keep the barrier up in case?"

"I knocked him out," Keith offers, but his voice is mostly unheard as the Immortal squints and looks for Lance's face.

"I'm Florona." She doesn't seem to have the same reservations as Keith when it comes to trusting Vampires, and she looks up into Lance's eyes immediately.

The direct eye contact is a surprise, since he rarely meets anyone's eyes anymore, and he shivers in delight, cheeks flushing. Her eyes are a very pretty gray, bright and trusting, and feels like he's falling into them. He hasn't felt this normal in so long, and his lips stretch into a wide, honest smile. He tones down the smile when he remembers his fangs must be clearly visible, though the Immortal seems not to care.

"The name's Lance," he says with a wink, and Florona laughs, and Lance feels like he's back at the Garrison again, harmlessly flirting with the pretty girls he's lucky enough to meet. He isn't entirely sure of what he's saying when the words spill from his lips: "I'd like to make my feelings for you _Immortal_."

Florona says something back, but Lance can barely hear her. The entire _Human_ moment is crushed by the overpoweringly sweet smell of Keith's blood rushing to his cheeks, a dark blush staining his pale features. His smell is penetrating, filling Lance's senses, stronger than Florona's soft scent could ever hope to be.

Keith is a stupid awful reminder that no matter how much Lance tries to avoid it, he's a Vampire.

The freeze in their conversation lasts to the point that Florona seems concerned, and Lance drags his eyes toward and then away from Keith's face, exhaling loudly. Keith isn't making eye contact with Lance, but he's definitely looking at the interaction between him and the Immortal.

"We can travel together for a little bit," Lance says, partly out of spite and partly because Florona is really pretty and makes him feel free and happy. She had been alone and gotten into a fight with a Vampire, and he doesn't want that happening when he could have stopped it. Besides, he needs to be normal again, and the best way to do that is to _feel_ normal again. Florona is giving him that, more than Hunk did and more than Keith ever will (with his intense violet stare and his dry, piercing questions). She's pretty and soft and interested in _Lance_ , and she needs him in the way he's always worked for—he can protect her like the Hunter he was supposed to (wanted to) become. He's not going to lose the chance to experience this normalcy, even for the few hours it will be.

Florona smiles again, reaching forward and touching Lance's arm, and Lance finds his lips pulling into a dopey smile, heart racing at her warm touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did you like the start of their journey together? keith and lance have so much they need to talk about. . .
> 
> ([talk to me](http://ssuppositiouss.tumblr.com) about klance and vampires lololol)


	5. opinions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's a moderate amount of foreshadowing in this but it was really hard to write and i'm not entirely happy with how this came out because it's mostly a transition chapter D': hopefully i can get chapter 6 out soon to cancel out the meh feeling i have (the first art by [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com) is coming and im really excited for that)
> 
> hopefully on your end as readers this is still good? there's some fighting and feelings between these two boys hmmmm (i love the klance dynamic so much but part of them being them is the slow growth from their rivalry ahaha)

**who is right?**

Florona is the type of travel companion Lance wouldn’t mind for a long journey. She’s very polite, never asking intrusive personal questions—he sends a pointed look at Keith, who is walking behind them, and Keith scowls back—and she has no qualms about breaking the social norms of Vampire interaction, making Lance feel at ease.

“I’m from the Baku Gardens,” she explains after Lance provides a hugely simplified version of his and Keith’s travel plans. “It’s not too far from Earth.”

Lance knows there are lands beyond just Earth, Daibazaal, and Altea, but his memories from classes at the Garrison have mostly blurred together. “What brings you out of the Gardens?” He hasn’t used his flirtatious tone in so long, it feels nice. His smile feels genuine.

She shrugs, folds her hands together. “I’m just trying to start a life in Altea.”

Lance glances at her lack of bags, nothing with her to indicate that she’s traveling or moving. Even Keith has a backpack. He doesn’t know how close the Gardens are relative to Altea, but most people know better than to travel alone outside of their territories. It seems like a series of poor plans and bad luck, or a sadder story than she’s willing to admit to a stranger.

(Lance, after all, has his own story to which he won’t admit.)

“Sucks that you ran into a Vampire on the way out,” he remarks, off-handedly gauging her response.

Stiffening, she turns to face Keith. “Is the Human okay?”

Lance pouts. Okay, that wasn’t the reaction Lance had been hoping for, though he supposes it’s a good thing that the Immortal cares. He hasn’t completely checked if Keith was injured from the altercation with the Vampire, but he seems fine based on his scent. Keith looks very flustered at the attention, and Lance doesn’t want to inspire another blush from Keith, so he tries to shift Florona’s gaze. It’s easy to blush under a pretty girl’s attention; Lance knows from experience.

“He’s fine.” Lance waves a hand.

Florona nods. Her voice seems distant. “I just didn’t want any Humans hurt by S. . . some Vampire.”

Lance has the urge to wrap an arm around her, and he hates that he can’t. He hasn’t hugged anyone but Hunk since even a few months before he’d Turned (and how he regrets not visiting home for a hug), and he’s in no position now to be offering anyone comfort. No one finds comfort in a Vampire’s cold arms, in a strength that must be monitored to ensure safety. And this pretty Immortal certainly won’t want him touching her, Lance thinks bitterly. He wants to take care of someone, be needed by someone.

He forces himself back to smiling, offering her words to ease her worries instead. He can, at the very least, protect her from any other Vampires or threats that come up while they travel.

Their conversation flows so much more smoothly when they aren’t talking about Vampires and the state of society and potentially threatening injuries. Florona laughs at his jokes, smiles when she looks at his eyes, makes jokes of her own. There’s a certain level of comfort between them that Lance wasn’t expecting from his interactions with anyone, and it feels really nice. Keith stays several steps behind them, quiet and sulking as he usually is, but it leaves Lance more time alone with Florona. He feels carefree. He feels like his old self again.

She talks about her friends, about the queen in their territory. She talks about disappointing people, about having to leave home. She talks about her own life, in a way that Keith refuses to do with Lance despite how bad of a liar he is. It’s nice to hear about someone else, to be able to offer the care and comfort that he _wants_ to give to others.

The scenery around them seems to be lightening with every step they take, a clear sign that the sun is beginning to rise.

Of course, time passes too quickly, and he can’t spend the entire journey with her. He isn’t his old self, and he isn’t carefree. He’s a Vampire helping a Human travel to the Vampire capital, which is so many problems on its own, and Florona is a welcome distraction to his own thoughts and memories.

Coming back from Daibazaal, he had been weak, his mental state too unsteady and lost to fully understand where he was and what had happened. After feeding, he’d wandered almost mindlessly until he’d arrived home. He posed to knock on his door before coming to his senses, and he’d wandered around again until he reached the Garrison, where Hunk, thankfully, found him.

He glances around subtly, taking in the lack of juniberries and the dirt path. He’s both relieved and frustrated by the amount of time that is still left to travel. “Where do you need to go in Altea?”

 _When do you need to leave?_ When will he be left to these memories again, forced to share them with Keith?

“The sun is rising.” Florona touches Lance’s arm, and he shivers, nearly tripping on his own legs. Her skin is so warm, her touch so gentle.

They stop walking, and he can feel Keith’s eyes boring into his back.

“Yeah,” he sighs. He hates that being in the sun is so draining, that his skin burns so easily now. He doesn’t want to stop talking, doesn’t want to hide under the shade of the trees and watch as his traveling companions sleep. The idea of watching Keith and Florona sleeping is horribly dull, but he wouldn’t really have anything else to do since he has to avoid the sun.

And he won’t admit it, but he also wants to make sure Keith gets enough rest. Knowing him from the Garrison and with how quiet Keith is now, he won’t mention his own fatigue. Lance doesn’t like the idea of wearing him out unintentionally, because he doesn’t have the same restraints as a Vampire.

Keith remains silent, so Lance continues, “Since the sun’s coming up, we were going to stop in the woods and—”

“I can cast a barrier spell on you.”

She can _what_?

“ _What?_ ”

It’s the first time Lance has heard Keith speak since they’ve started walking with Florona. He’d almost forgotten the sound as it cracks on a question.

Florona nods, a soft, proud smile on her lips. “My magic is in creating all kinds of barriers. You would need one to shield you from the sun.”

“Really?” He knows he sounds excited more than intrigued, but he can’t help it.

That kind of Immortal magic is _amazing_. Lance feels a wide grin starting to form, but he forces it down, trying not to seem as thrilled as he’s truly feeling. He’s always loved the sun, and he’s missed its warmth (not the burning Vampire warmth, but the warmth of being part of something), the way it makes him feel like he’s at home, like the world isn’t trying to reject him. This is probably his only chance at sunlight.

“Have you done it before?” Keith demands, voice a mix of disbelieving and irritated. He can feel the aura of Keith’s anger, and he feels bad for how Florona almost seems to shrink under Keith’s gaze.

“Shielded a Vampire?”

“ _Obviously_ , she’s never done this before,” he snaps, mimicking the tone Keith uses too often when he addresses Lance. He feels the darker part of him burning inside, demanding he let out his frustrations, demanding he _bite_ and he _drink_ and he _take_ _from Keith what Vampires are meant to take from_ —

He touches the vials at his side, trying to calm down. He hates that his darker instincts force his thoughts in these directions. He’s fine. He won’t be drinking from _anyone_. Soon enough, hopefully, he won’t have to drink blood at all.

“And how would _you_ know that?”

“I’m a _great_ judge of character!”

Keith snorts. “Right. Only pretty characters.” Then he mumbles something Lance is grateful Florona doesn’t hear, but Lance has his Vampire hearing, and he’s furious.

Lance knows that Keith’s abrasiveness is part of his personality (an unfortunate part of dealing with Keith, he’s decided), but it’s only fine when it’s directed at Lance. He’s a great judge of character, except when it comes to Keith, apparently.

Florona looks away from Keith and turns her piercing gray gaze onto Lance. He smiles at her, though he’s sure it doesn’t meet his eyes. “We can take a break and I can show my magic, before we do anything.”

“I just don’t think. . .”

Lance exhales loudly. “ _What_ , Keith?”

Lance hates the expression on Keith’s face, and his mouth feels dry as he searches for something to say (anything to say, he’s normally so good at this) to force away that look. He didn’t mean. . . Before Lance can say anything, though, Keith is glaring again, eyes infuriated as he returns to his usual irritated pose. “Let’s talk.”

Lance sighs, gesturing to Florona that it’ll be a few minutes. She nods politely and takes a few steps back, folding her hands in front of her as she pointedly stares upward at the sky and away from them. He figured he and Keith would argue during their travels together, but he also thought they would be silent for a long enough time that they wouldn’t fight so soon.

“Why are you trusting her?” Keith hisses, as soon as they’re enough steps away from Florona that she would only be able to hear them whisper if she strains.

“Well, why aren’t you?”

“Come _on_.”

“Enlighten me, oh-wise-Hunter.”

“We _just_ met her, and we have no idea why she needs to join us to get to wherever she’s going. She wouldn’t let me stake the Vampire, who she could have used magic against in the first place—”

“Why are you being so close-minded?” Lance takes a breath. Keith always finds a way to rile him up, even without the intention to do so. “Aren’t you the one willing to travel with a Vampire just to get to Daibazaal?”

“That’s different.” Keith crosses his arms.

“How?”

“She doesn’t actually _need_ —”

Lance wants to laugh hollowly, wants to throw up his hands. “Like you _need_ me?” He wants to take back the phrase as soon as he says it, hating the way Keith’s face seems to redden. Part of him wants to hold his breath and taunt Keith for his reaction. Now, though, he just wants to end this argument and spend more time with someone who actually _appreciates_ his company, who makes him feel useful and not like a supernatural map with no emotions and limitless answers.

“I—”

“Name a good reason we can’t travel with her.” Lance crosses his arms, so he and Keith are in the same pose, staring at each other. Well, Lance is staring at Keith, and Keith is looking at Lance’s mouth. Does he really think Lance is going to bite him?

Keith looks between Lance and Florona, frowning. “We don’t know anything about her.”

Lance rolls his eyes, unable to dignify the comment with a response. _He and Keith_ know nothing about each other. They just jumped into this journey together haphazardly, with barely any plans or logic involved. If they had really stopped to think, to consider how little they get along with each other in the first place, the idea of a Hunter and a Vampire traveling together to the anti-Vampire capital and then the Vampire capital seems more than idiotic. Why would a Hunter run off with the first Vampire he meets? Why would a Vampire travel with a Hunter like _Keith_?

They’re both just desperate (lonely), and that’s the only thing Lance can use as an explanation as to why he’s partnered with Keith of all people.

“It’s risky enough taking one Vampire into Altea,” Keith continues. “We can’t let her see where we go in case—”

“You think I don’t know that?” _Lance_ is the one who’s leading them to Altea, _Lance_ is the one who made these plans because Keith wants to just run to Daibazaal without much foresight. Lance isn’t an idiot, and it hurts that Keith thinks so lowly of him that he believes Lance would give every passerby the secret to sneaking Vampires into Altea.

“Maybe.” Keith hardens his gaze. “But nothing’s going to come from flirting with her.”

“What?” Lance laughs much too loudly. “I’m not _flirting_. . .” Except that he is, and he knows he is. Florona is just. . . she’s easy to talk to and she’s kind and she helps Lance feel normal and useful and not like he’s an idiot Vampire with an awful past (the way Keith makes him feel now).

“Right.” He uncrosses his arms, lowers his voice a little. “She won’t like you.”

Lance’s heart clenches. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a Vampire.”

“And?” People can still _like_ him; he’s still _Lance_ underneath a different exterior. He doesn’t want to be alone.

“I just mean. . .”

He doesn’t expect anything out of this, he just wants the comfort Florona is offering now. He’s already a blood-sucking monster with no contact with anyone from his Human life, and he just wants to have some light-hearted fun. He could never be anything with Florona, but he doesn’t need Keith constantly reminding him that no one could _possibly_ ever like him _again_.

“Just because no one could like _you_ ,” Lance yells. He’s breathing hard after, more passion in the words than he expects.

"Why would anyone _want_ to like you?"

They both silent at that, stewing in their own thoughts.

The quiet between them builds, and Lance feels guilty about fighting with Keith, the longer they don’t speak. He promised he’d lead Keith to Daibazaal, and he will. He just wants to be able to help Florona, too, and she’s doing a lot more than Keith in making sure he isn’t miserable. He can manage both, he knows he can. He’ll drop Florona off wherever she needs to go, and then he and Keith can go back to being sullen together as they make their own way into Altea.

If Keith doesn’t like Florona, then that’s his own problem to overcome. She’s going to help them travel for longer because of her barrier abilities, so Keith should be grateful.

“You’ll just have to trust me, _Hunter_ ,” Lance throws at him, because Keith is acting stupid and like a caricature of a Hunter instead of like a living, thinking _Human_ talking to someone else with _feelings_. The irritation emanating from Keith is too much. He glares so strongly Lance is sure that if Keith were an Immortal with that type of power, Lance would have caught fire.

“That might be a problem, _Vampire_ ,” Keith sneers, clenching his hands into fists.

Their eyes meet for a moment—how are his eyes so _purple_ and why is that something he’s noticing now—and Lance’s heart starts racing too quickly in his chest. Keith breaks eye contact immediately, and Lance’s breath catches in his throat.

“Uhh. . .”

“We’ll keep going, then,” Keith decides. He raises his hand, lets it hover in the air, as though he wants to reach for Lance’s jacket but is unsure. There’s a sudden tension between them that Lance doesn’t know how to break; and he almost doesn’t want to break it. Keith withdraws his hand and swallows. “Just. . . keep your hood up.”

* * *

Keith blinks away the sleep weighting his eyes, not trying to listen to Lance flirting with the Immortal. But it’s hard to ignore Lance’s laugh, bright and loud and charming, and just meant to be shared, to elevate people’s moods. Keith finds himself just staring as the two interact, just so he can hear that laugh.

He hates fighting with Lance.

Shiro said that Keith could have a bit of a temper, and Keith's been trying to work on it, but sometimes he says things without thinking, with more energy than necessary.

Lance is the first person he’s actually spoken to in _months_ , probably (he’s not counting the Vampires he staked). They’d been getting along enough before they started traveling together.

He doesn’t want to be traveling with Florona, and he’s made his feelings very clear about it. He thinks her Immortal magic is suspicious, her method of interacting with Vampires too unusual to be normal.

But Lance has more experience with people and must know more. Keith hasn’t been around enough people to judge anyone’s character. He only knows that most people will leave, and though Lance is getting close to her, Florona is ultimately going to leave, as well. It’s better to accept that now, better to avoid forging a bond that will end before it begins.

She’s perfectly trustworthy, according to Lance. And Keith must trust Lance in _some_ way, since he’s willing to travel across territories with a probably hungry Vampire, willing to possibly risk his own life and the lives of some Alteans by bringing a _Vampire_ into their territory. Lance isn’t just any Vampire though. Keith is sure of it. If Lance finds Florona trustworthy, then Keith should, too.

In the hours they’ve spent with her, she’s made Lance smile and laugh and talk more than he ever has with Keith. Maybe it isn’t that hard to do. Maybe it’s just because he’s Keith (“Just because no one could like _you_!”) and Lance has no reason to smile with Keith. And maybe it makes something bubble in him that he just has to shove aside, but he has to appreciate that Lance is happy with her since he’s obviously unhappy with Keith.

He can’t fault Lance for wanting to keep someone like that around when the alternative is awkward conversation with the Garrison dropout who Lance _clearly_ dislikes.

Keith makes sure to take a few steps backward, just so there’s a good enough distance between them where he won’t intrude.

He isn't the best at reading situations, but he knows Lance doesn't like him. He admittedly feeds into Lance's barbs, throwing his own rude comments back, but every time he thinks they're getting along, something doesn't match up and they're back to square one.

When Keith finds Shiro, he'll have the one person who  _does_ actually care about him back in his life again. He won't need anyone else. He'll have his friend back. Shiro will be safe.

He adjusts his bag on his back, stretching his arms a little as they walk. He’s still a bit sore from the fight with the Vampire earlier, but he enjoys the thrill of fighting, the sting of the bruises afterward. His abdomen aches when he moves too much, but that’s more because Lance landed a bit too heavily on him, and he has surprisingly pointy elbows. His wrist is still a little bruised from when Lance grabbed it so tightly days before. He wonders what it would be like if they fought _together_ against a common enemy, instead of fighting with each other.

He yawns, pressing his palms to his eyes with the hopes of waking himself up.

“You flip my humanity switch _on_ ,” he hears Lance say. Florona laughs and Lance must be smiling back, but Keith just stares dumbly at the way the sunlight seems to make Lance glow. Yeah, Lance is _definitely_ not flirting.

He ignored Keith’s request to keep his hood on, especially when it became obvious Florona is very capable with her barrier magic, and Lance must have wanted to show off because he’s aware of his looks. The sun really highlights his dark skin and hair, which the moonlight could never do justice. And he obviously loves being in the sunlight, must miss it. He’s only ever seen Lance when it’s dark, and Lance looks so much nicer when he’s smiling and the light brightens his—

Keith catches where his thoughts are going, and he feels his cheeks erupt in a startling, hot blush. He’s not even willing to trust Human or Immortal strangers, but Lance. . .

 _You can’t_ seriously _be thinking that a Vampire—_

He hears Lance’s heavy inhale and feels Lance glance back at him, an almost predatory look on his face, fangs poking out of his mouth, sharp and white in the sun’s light.

“Oh!” He shivers, absentmindedly reaching for his blade. Has Lance heard something again? Is the Vampire from earlier back for them?

Keith hasn’t heard anything, though he’s definitely heard other noises as they were traveling and Lance hasn’t reacted. He doesn’t have the heightened senses of a Vampire, so he has to rely on Lance for some of their fighting decisions. A question sits at the tip of his tongue, but he refrains, so he doesn’t interrupt Lance and Florona’s conversation. He doesn’t want to get in the way.

He remains tense until Lance turns back around and resumes his conversation with Florona, and then he lets go of his blade, yawning as his body relaxes.

“The Gardens were safe and warm. . .”

“I have three siblings, actually. . .”

“I only have the Queen Luxia, but I would do anything for her. . .”

“I’m a pretty good shot, you know. . .”

“I’ve been lucky not to run into any Vampires except. . .”

He pointedly ignores their conversation, since he isn’t meant to be included and he refuses to disrupt them if his own feelings are irrational.

Strangely enough, there’s a lot more flirting than he’s used to hearing. He never really heard people flirting with each other, except for some of the awkward encounters he’d stumbled upon at the Garrison, so hearing Lance flirt is. . . different to him. He doesn’t quite know how to react when he hears it, even though none of it is directed at him. Earlier, when Lance said a strange pick-up line to Florona, Keith couldn’t help but blush at Lance’s tone.

He thinks he’s losing it, and, not for the first time, he wishes Shiro were here.

Shiro encouraged Keith to step beyond his comfort levels, to try for things that most people assumed he couldn’t handle. Shiro was always patient with him, too. He would help Keith feel comfortable in a situation like this, when so much about Lance is clearly lost on Keith. It used to ground Shiro, having someone to motivate and be motivated by, and Keith liked having someone who wanted to spend time with him, who wouldn’t abandon him. Shiro acted as an opposite to Keith's personality, and it was fun to have that, to have someone who liked cracking jokes and laughing (even though Keith didn't understand the jokes most of the time), with a sense of calm to counter Keith's rash decision-making.

Shiro has a lot of similarities to Lance, if Keith really thinks about it. But Shiro and Keith got along. And Shiro offered a sense of experience and wisdom that Keith needed (and still needs).

He really misses Shiro.

Keith doesn’t remember much of his parents, of his childhood before he went from different home to home. He remembers the cold environment of labs and doctors, of his father disappearing, of his mother in pain and disappearing from his life as well. He remembers the different families. But the pieces are a blur and his life only really began when he found a friend, a _brother_ , a _family_ , in Shiro.

Keith is willing to sacrifice his pride at solving problems on his own, at being able to do things by himself. He's willing to be patient and travel with a stranger, a  _Vampire_  nonetheless. He'll do what he needs to do if it brings him closer to finding his friend.

It feels as though they’ve walked for another hour or so when Keith nearly runs into the pair in front of him because they’ve stopped so abruptly.

“What?”

“Let’s take a break here,” Lance decides, gesturing at the large and shady trees nearby. Florona continues to stare at Lance, as she’s casting her barrier spell and needs to stay focused.

Keith blinks, staring at Lance’s kind smile. He thinks his face warms at the soft look on Lance’s face, but he could just be tired. “Why?”

Lance looks away from Keith, tense as he turns to Florona and visibly exhales. Keith frowns and tries not to think too much of it (“Just because no one could like _you_!”), though he wants to know what he keeps doing to make Lance so angry with him. It would be a lot easier for them to travel together if Lance could at least tolerate him, and he’s willing to try. He supposes he isn’t the best companion to have.

Maybe he could have been nicer to Lance when they first started this journey together?

“It’s been a long night,” Florona admits. Keith agrees, but he doesn’t know why they need the break now.

He fights back a yawn that would be too perfectly timed, but he sees Lance’s pointed look. He stands straighter and tries to look less fatigued. Lance is a lot more observant than he pretends to be.

Keith doesn’t think he’s _tired_ , exactly. He knows if he closes his eyes for long enough, sleep would come easily, but he doesn’t _need_ the sleep. The yawning is just his body’s way of reminding him to sleep _at some point_. He doesn’t know if he’d be comfortable sleeping around a Vampire and an Immortal who clearly have no desire to travel with him, anyway. If Florona weren’t there, he would have had to sleep near Lance alone, but he would have tried to put it off until they made it to Altea and he would have been surrounded by magic and Immortals with the goal of keeping the Vampires away.

“Do you want to stop?” Keith asks, looking at Florona. A Vampire has no need for sleep, and he’s sure Lance isn’t the least bit tired from walking so long.

“It wouldn’t hurt to recharge,” she agrees, and Lance seems relieved at her response.

Maybe he wants more time to flirt with her while Keith’s asleep? Maybe he wants to take the break because he’s worried about her?

Something unpleasant churns in his stomach.

Seeing no other options, Keith shrugs and leads them to the wooded area of the region, letting them follow him so he doesn’t have to look at them flirting with each other any longer. As soon as they’re in the shade, Lance scrambles to pull up his hood as Florona drops the barrier spell she’s placed on him.

She moves to sit at the base of a wide tree, graceful as she adjusts her legs, skirts fluttering around her. Not even a minute later, Lance sits next to her, so their arms are pressed against each other.

Keith continues standing, staring at them in silence, until Lance clears his throat.

“Any day now, mullet.”

“What?” He must be more tired than he thinks, as it takes a few seconds for him to repeat the phrase and then understand that a mullet is a type of hairstyle. “Mullet?”

Florona giggles. “Lance!”

He touches the bottom of his hair self-consciously, frowning. He wonders if they’ve said more about him when he wasn’t listening, if he’s unknowingly done more to offend Lance since whatever he must have done at the Garrison and whatever he’s been doing now.

Sighing and unable to think of a decent comeback, he shrugs off his backpack and moves to sit at a tree trunk a bit farther away from them. He didn’t realize how tired his legs are. Sliding to the ground is more of a relief than he’d care to admit. He wouldn’t mind kicking off his boots, but he needs to be prepared for anything. He’s far enough that he can still see the Immortal and Vampire pair, but he hopes the angle leaves them little to see of him.

He watches them talk for a bit longer, though he doesn’t know what they’re saying. Florona nods off at some point, her head falling delicately to rest on Lance’s shoulder. Lance’s arm has made its way around her back, and they both look peaceful. A gentle smile graces Lance’s lips while she sleeps.

She isn’t any danger to them when she’s asleep, Keith figures, but he doesn’t know if he can trust Lance to stay alert if he has a pretty girl at his arm. He hadn’t realized that other people would be a distraction when he’d first found Lance.

He thought he was lucky, finding a Vampire not out to drain him of his blood on sight, with Galra origins but no loyalty to the capital in Daibazaal. Perhaps he made the judgement too impulsively, a bit too reliant on the idea that he and Lance came from the Garrison (on Lance’s wicked smirk) and that they would have worked together at the Garrison, so they probably could work together well now. As a Hunter he knows he should be less trusting, and he is, but there’s something about Lance that makes him a bit more open.

He knows he isn’t forthcoming with details about himself, but doesn’t know a lot about Lance, either. He still thinks Lance is reliable.

Florona probably knows more about Lance than he does.

Well, if Lance is dangerous, Keith is the only person who could be hurt, so it's fine.

Keith tries to blink the sleep from his eyes, surveying the area. He can hear insects and birds fluttering and chirping through the trees, and they seem at peace. It doesn’t seem like any Vampires or Hunters are coming, and he doesn’t have the senses to recognize them from too great a distance, but he’s sure Lance will alert him if he’s needed.

He makes brief eye contact with Lance (it’s okay to make eye contact at a distance, when he can’t hear the command that can Compel him), flushing pink at Lance’s pointed look—he doesn’t know if Lance is trying to tell him something, but the expression is so confident and charming, and Keith can’t handle it well.

Mouthing an insult to Lance, he adjusts his backpack and rests his elbow on it, shifting his weight so he’s more relaxed.

He’s keeping watch, he figures. This way, someone is awake at all times with the Vampire. This way, he’s alert if anyone comes around or if the Immortal isn’t as trustworthy as Lance makes her out to be.

He’s keeping watch when his eyelids become too heavy. He’s keeping watch when time skips. Lance looks smug, and Keith tries harder to keep his eyes open, as though Lance is taunting him with his ability to stay awake when Keith cannot.

He’s keeping watch when he succumbs to his need for sleep.

* * *

Lance assumed that watching his traveling partners sleep would be boring, but he’d been hoping he would be wrong.

He wasn’t.

He hates sitting around and _thinking_ when everyone else is sleeping. When he’s left with his thoughts for too long, he becomes sad, and being active and having things to do is his main relief. This was always going to be an issue with him and Keith traveling together, so at least he has a pretty girl near him now instead of just a cranky Hunter. At the same time, being near her means he can’t move to stretch his legs and wander, so he’s stuck watching his companions sleep because there’s literally _nothing else to do_.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he tries to think of other things, so he isn’t left solely pondering on his own inadequacies and failures.

He justifies his boredom because he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Florona and Keith alone in the woods where anyone could get to them. And he can’t really move from his current position without jostling Florona too much and awakening her.

So, unfortunately, he’s stuck watching them.

Florona smells sweet, like a light brush of fresh water lilies, and her scent tickles his nose when she adjusts her position in sleep. Her heartbeat is calm, which is a bit of relief as his own heart is racing faster than he’d like. He’s never slept with someone outside of his family (and Hunk, but Hunk is family). And Florona is soft and he kind of likes her, and he needs to watch that he doesn’t press against her too hard or squeeze her too tight or do anything that could scare her or himself.

She’s just so _fragile_.

Keith has, thankfully, chosen to stay a bit of distance away. He hopes they’re both past some of the anger from earlier, as he doesn’t want to end up in another argument when there’s little time left before they’ll drop off Florona and he’ll be alone with Keith again. Keith has his elbow on his backpack, and he’s asleep on the back of his hand. He looks more relaxed than Lance has ever seen him, hair falling into his face, and it is sort of endearing to see him like this, normally scowling lips in a pout, normally furrowed eyebrows undrawn.

Lance looks away, focusing his attention back on the pretty Immortal in his arms.

Time continues to drag and drag and drag. Minutes turn to hours, and the sun rises higher in the sky. His body aches in the heat, his skin feeling like he’s getting a bad sunburn despite the shade and his jacket. He’s stuck suffering in silence, trying to think of _anything_ so he isn’t tortured through this, counting down every second until one of his companions awakens. He hates to think that he might have to do this again, with only Keith as company. At least now he has Florona.

Then, something breaks the monotony.

His ears perk, and he tries to hone his senses on the noise he hears. He makes a mental note: he really needs to practice using his Vampire skills before a time comes when he needs to use them and he won’t have the strength to do it properly.

The noise, though, sounds like someone is approaching. The footsteps are light, so it seems that the person is still far enough away that their group is fine for now. At the same time, he wants to scope the area and ensure that they’re safe. He hadn’t heard anything when he was walking with Florona. But now. . . People don’t usually wander these territories alone because of the risk of Vampires. A person traveling alone most likely _is_ a Vampire. It would be too risky to leave the situation as it is.

He wonders if he can move away without jostling Florona awake, nearly deciding against it when she sighs in a very pretty way, content and relaxed with _him_.

“Florona,” he whispers, soft and gentle. She opens her eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep. She smiles at him, and Lance nearly forgets why he was trying to awaken her.

“Good morning,” she greets, gray eyes wide.

He blushes, flustered, and before he remembers to continue talking, she’s already started her barrier magic. His skin no longer feels like it’s starting to peel, and he sighs in relief.

“Thank you,” he breathes. She beams, and maybe a few minutes pass, but the sound of whoever had been approaching them fades and disappears. He assumes, if it was a Vampire, that he or she was uninterested in their group. He could put in more effort to listen for it, but he figures the person just headed in a direction opposite them, therefore out of his range of hearing. His sense of smell isn’t keen enough, so he’ll have to rely on his hearing.

“Hey.” He shoves his worries aside. “How was your sleep?”

“Comfortable.” She pulls away from him to stretch a bit, so Lance assumes she’s gotten enough sleep. She’s starting to stand up when Lance hears Keith shuffling around as well. The moment of peace has passed, there are no Vampires in the area around them, and it’s time to come back to reality and travel to Altea.

While Florona looks re-energized from her nap (or was it a full sleep, Lance has no idea how much time has passed), Keith looks as tired and annoyed as ever. He’s digging through his bag when he makes his way over to Lance, already very alert for just having been deep in sleep. Finding what he’s looking for in his bag, he holds up an apple, so Lance can recognize what it is, then throws it at him.

Lance stares at the fruit blankly. It would taste like dirt and sand to him, if anything. (What he would _do_ to need real food again.) He forces himself to smile, moves near Keith so he seems at ease. “As much as I’d love to eat this. . .”

Keith huffs. “For your _friend_.”

Florona smiles and plucks the apple from Lance’s hands, and Lance trips over words as he tries to think of an insult toward Keith. “Jealous?” is what actually comes from his mouth.

Keith blinks, closing his bag slowly as he takes out his own apple to eat. Is the food a peace offering? “No?”

“Never mind.” Lance glances around again, listening if he hears any footsteps or people in the distance. Florona perks at the gesture, taking a bite of her apple. Hearing nothing, he continues, “Sleep well?”

“Uhh.” Keith seems genuinely surprised Lance is asking him this question, and Lance frowns. He’s not a mean person. He made them take this break because he could hear Keith’s yawning, because he could see how tired Keith looked. They exchanged some mean words, but Lance made a promise he’s going to keep. Once they get Florona where she needs to go, it’s just him and Keith. “I guess.”

Lance rolls his eyes. Keith’s conversational skills are amazing, truly. “Alri—”

“What did _you_ do?”

Lance can’t tell if this is Keith’s way of furthering the conversation or if Keith is rudely asking if Lance went out and fed while they slept. He gives Keith the benefit of the doubt, but he’s reluctant to admit he’d been stuck watching them for hours.

“I was keeping watch,” he decides, leaning close to Keith. With anyone else he’d throw an arm around their shoulders. He feels Keith stiffen, though Keith presses closer, so their arms touch just a little. “Had to make sure it was safe so your stuffy mullet could get some sleep.”

"Of course," Keith grumbles, moving away from Lance. He feels colder without Keith near him. “I needed sleep since I do the fighting.” He stares at Lance until Lance feels his face grow warm.

“You fought _one_ time!”

“You were too busy _flirting_ to—”

Florona clears her throat. “Thank you for the apple, Hunter.”

Keith’s expression softens from anger at Lance to a more subdued, mildly uncomfortable look. It would be endearing, if Lance weren’t so irritated. He thinks of all the times Keith has said stupid things, and he frowns. “Uhh. Yeah.” Keith turns the apple in his hands. “Where did you say you were going?”

She laughs. “Near where you’re heading. Lance says my destination is close.”

Keith throws a _look_ at Lance. “Did he, now?”

Lance smiles at Florona, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her out of Keith’s line of questioning, so neither of them has to feel his gaze. He doesn’t remember saying that, but sometimes he says things without thinking (particularly when pretty people are involved). He doesn’t know exactly where Florona is headed, but he’ll be getting her there safely. “Why don’t we start our afternoon stroll?”

Their afternoon stroll is much like their other walks. Keith trails behind them in silence, and he and Florona talk and laugh easily, letting time fly by. He relishes the warmth of the sunlight, the happiness of Florona’s gaze as she looks into his eyes.

He hears Keith unsheathing his knife, and he turns to stare, halting the flow of his conversation with Florona about family (Florona is an orphan, but she found a home with Luxia, and Lance’s heart reaches out to Florona).

“Did you hear that?” Keith looks ready to attack something, and while Lance can admit Keith has excellent skills as a Hunter, Lance also knows he is the one with the keener senses now, and he hasn’t heard anything.

He won’t be outdone by _Keith_ , of all people. “Sure you’re not just imagining things?”

“Sure you’re not just _distracted_?” Keith keeps his knife out, just in case.

Distracted or not, he would have heard if a Vampire or Hunter was nearing. It isn’t his fault if Keith is so jumpy—Keith was poised to attack a number of times before they’d finally taken their break, knife ready despite the sunlight and Lance not hearing anything himself. "I have better senses than you."

"Not when you're too busy to use them."

What is he insinuating? “Maybe you’re just—”

“Traveling with you has been lovely, Lance,” Florona interrupts.

“Only because of your company,” he agrees, turning away from Keith and back to face her.

Gesturing at the Altean barrier, she continues, “This is where we part.”

It’s very abrupt.

The barrier is bright and secure, surrounding shrubbery and a crumbling wall and a worn-down path if any Alteans felt the need to leave their city to travel in the direction of what Lance thinks might be Olkarion. He wonders what is so special about this area that it’s where Florona needs to go, but he won’t pry. He didn’t think they’d be separating so soon.

Keith walks up from behind them, frowning as he puts his blade away. “What’s so special about here?”

Florona turns to stare at Keith, then faces Lance again. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have met in better circumstances.” She touches his hand. “Thank you.”

He swallows, forces himself to smile like he won’t miss her terribly. “Thank _you_.” Because she’s done more for him in the past day than he could have thought possible. He’s never felt more Human than he has with her, a reminder of why he’s agreed to this journey at all, a promise of what could come if he and Keith make it into Altea.

Keith looks sympathetic, allowing Lance and Florona to have their own moment. He turns his face to the side, closing his eyes. (Keith has long eyelashes, and Lance hates that he notices because it isn’t the time.)

Lance rubs his thumb on the side of Florona’s hand, giving her a soft and genuine smile. “Good luck.”

Florona’s cheeks flush pale pink before she pulls her hand back. “To you, as well.”

They stare at each other quietly for a few minutes, before Keith is back to being blunt and is interrupting their moment with “Could you keep the barrier up on Lance until we’re back in the trees?”

Lance would be more indignant at Keith’s tact if not for the fact that, yes, he would have burned in the sunlight as soon as Florona turned her back. He really hates Keith, sometimes.

She laughs, dragging her gaze from Lance to Keith. “Of course.”

Keith leads Lance back into the trees, footsteps brisk and pace much faster than Lance would have liked. He walks more slowly, back to Keith as he walks backward so he can stare at Florona. He barely hears Keith’s huff of annoyance; he’s busy watching as Florona keeps her gaze on him and waves a sweet goodbye.

When he’s close enough to the trees that he can’t deny he and Florona have to part ways, Lance turns away from her and heads into the shade. Immediately, with Florona’s magical barrier dropped, the filtered sunlight begins to irritate his skin and the warmth of the sun becomes more than uncomfortable. He pulls up his hood, tugging at his jacket sleeves as though making them cover his fingers would relieve some of the discomfort.

He can handle this. He’d just spent an afternoon suffering through this.

Keith is leaning against a tree, arms crossed as he waits for the two supernatural creatures to complete their goodbyes. “Finished?”

There is a slight breeze, enough that Lance knows it’s a chilly day, but the light and the possibility of burning keeps him from being his normal cooler temperature. His joints ache as he moves them, like the burning seeps into to his core. He forces a smile. “Guess it’s just us again.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Will you be alright?”

He feels empty in more ways than one, and he wishes he could travel with Florona for longer instead of just with Keith, but his mami raised him better than to vocalize such thoughts. He looks at Keith’s face and sighs. “C’mon.”

They start walking, completely silent. Every step hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this (and to everyone who's commented so far, thank you so much!! i struggled through this chapter a lot, so having your words to reread really helped me)
> 
> please let me know what you think!! did anything seem super out-of-character? are you looking forward to anything? what was your favorite/least favorite part??
> 
> (also feel free to message me [on tumblr](http://ssuppositiouss.tumblr.com))


	6. underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the posting delay!! things have been kind of busy lately but I'm really excited for one of the scenes in the upcoming chapter (to be illustrated by [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com)) which is kind of hinted by the last scene of this chapter

**what is in your veins in your veins**

Lance hears the crunch of the leaves that have already fallen under his boots, of animals and insects chittering and birds fluttering about. He’s thankful that it’s only early autumn; there are still leaves to shade him, so the air is cooler and not aggravating the burning from filtered sunlight. In the not-too-far distance, he hears people walking, but he can’t track or follow them unless they’re hiding in the shade as well. His body aches too much for him to want to try.

What are the chances the travelers are Hunters, anyway? No one would logically go after Vampires in the daylight. He doubts they’re being followed by Vampires, since even those who feed regularly wouldn’t be able to manage the sun for this long.

(The sun shouldn’t be such a weakness—being in its calm warmth made him feel alive again.)

The atmosphere between them is different now that Florona has left. Keith hasn’t said anything since checking that Lance would be okay. Instead he’s walking in front of Lance, pace brisk and stupid knife out as though it could actually hurt a Vampire if one were to jump at them. Except that, with Keith’s combat skills, he would be able to hurt a Vampire; it really isn’t fair.

Lance feels more and more drained as they walk. He wonders if this physical exhaustion is enough to make him need sleep, though he knows that won’t be the case. He keeps his hood up and his face down, so he won’t blister and burn further if the sun catches him unaware. In a way, it’s a good thing that Keith is in front of him. He wonders if Keith knows this, planned to walk this way so he could shield Lance from any accidental rays of sunshine, then decides against it.

He stays focused on hiding every inch of himself from the sun, on breathing slowly to reduce the burning burning _burning_. Everything stings, and it feels like his normally cold body is radiating its own heat. He thinks if he tries to speak, his voice will break. He thinks if he tries to meet anyone’s eyes (but who would look into his eyes other than the pretty Immortal who’s just left), he’ll tear up.

“You can visit her soon.” Keith voice jolts Lance from his thoughts, voice cracking from their extended silence. “When we’re in Altea.”

He’s slowed his pace so they’re closer than they had been. Lance keeps his head down, but he smiles with the hope that it carries in his voice rather than the pain he is feeling. He wants to see her again. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t hide his pain as he had hoped; Keith stops walking and looks at Lance, gaze so piercing Lance can feel it without looking up. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You _sure_?”

“Yeah.”

“You need to stop?”

“No!” His response is immediate, much more passionate than his lackluster earlier replies. How is Keith calling _him_ out on needing to stop? When he knew Keith needed a break, he didn’t make it obvious it was for Keith, tried to make it sound like the break was for everyone. He isn’t about to be the reason Keith complains they’re taking too long. “Why, are _you_ tired?”

Keith huffs. “I’m just checking.”

“We just took a break,” Lance points out. “ _You_ don’t need another one.”

“I’m checking for _you_ ,” he snaps. He pauses, scowls, then softens his voice. “You don’t. . . sound. . . right?”

Keith’s concern is unexpected. Then again, is it really unexpected, if they both need each other for something? He doesn’t think they _hate_ each other, exactly.

Things between them are definitely not at their best. He knows that he pushed Keith away when his questions became too intense. But Keith also hasn’t trusted him with _anything_ since they’ve started working together. Florona’s arrival coincided with their minor fallout, and then they were both quick to find faults in each other. (It’s so _easy_ to find Keith’s faults, just as Keith finds it easy to torment Lance with his.)

Lance knows they have more time together where he can repair their, _whatever_ it is they have together, so they will soon be back to their initial rivalry state. He doesn’t know if it’s what he wants, but Florona was a good enough distraction that he didn’t have to think about it, or about Keith, for a while.

“Oh?” Lance does look up now, raising his eyebrows at Keith. “You miss the sound of my voice?” He says it in a flirtier tone than he wants to direct at Keith, but he can’t hold back his instinct to say such things, and there is a strange and stupid part of him that wants to see people’s reactions, Keith’s reactions. “I can keep talking if you’d like. . .”

Because he’s still looking at Keith, he sees Keith’s pink cheeks before he smells them, and he almost regrets teasing when he’s overwhelmed by sunlight on his skin and Keith’s scent surrounding his senses and his body really burns, and has Keith always been standing so close he’s really close right now? He takes a step back, swallowing in his discomfort. He can’t hide the anguish on his face.

Keith, normally so oblivious to others’ emotions, frowns at Lance’s expression. “Let’s stop.”

“You’re so annoying,” Lance whines, walking faster. If they stop, he’ll be outside longer. It makes little difference to stand still in the shade compared to walking.

“Hmph.” Keith restarts his brisk pace, though he’s at Lance’s side now, glancing at him every now and then. “Coming from _you_.”

They walk for what feels like forever. He misses the relief he’d felt with Florona, both from his physical pain and his thoughts. Florona was fun to talk to, easy to joke with, a great conversationalist. Lance can’t think of anything he wants to say to Keith. It would feel forced.

He tries to remember what they talked about before starting their traveling together, and he remembers their vague plans and his puns and his jokes. Keith didn’t seem to understand them at the time, but Lance might be willing to try again (when the sun isn’t actively out to hurt him).

With the silence between them, Lance is left to his own thoughts again. He watches as the shadows change, as the sun moves closer to setting. His thoughts torment him.

It is _miserable_.

He’s left creating and recreating scenarios in his head of how his encounter with Princess Allura will go. His imagination starts the situations pleasantly enough, with light flirtations and sweet reciprocation from the beautiful Immortal, but maybe his mind is too realistic, and his imaginations always end with him stuck as a Vampire, with glaring eyes, with hatred, with starvation building to loss of control, blood everywhere but his hunger unsatiated.

 _Why would we_ want _to help a creature like_ you _?_

Spotting the juniberries makes him sag in relief.

Lance almost wants to just slide to the ground and close his eyes, let his body relax. “Thank you,” he says to whatever deity might be listening to him, if they would want to listen to a Vampire like him. He stops walking so he can just smile at the flowers: they’re his ticket to Altea, his first step to freedom.

Keith seems to notice Lance’s change in attitude, and he stops walking to stare at Lance. “This is it?”

Lance nods, not moving his eyes from the juniberries, as though looking away will make them less real.

“You’re _sure_?”

Lance nods again. The sun, thankfully, is not shining as brightly as before. The burning is starting to cool as the sun begins to set, the oranges and pinks of the sky still highlighting the beauty of the flowers. The juniberries are all outside the barrier, a wide field of pale pink flowers swaying with the light breeze. They look comfortable, and Lance thinks he can smell their sweet fragrance even from this distance, even with Keith so close. He wants to lay in the field and close his eyes.

Keith sighs, crossing his arms. “So how do we get in?”

Lance thinks back to Pidge’s letters to Hunk. She only mentioned there being caves and how the marker would be the harmless juniberry flower. Since there are no visible caves, it’s safe to assume the caves are underground, but there isn’t an obvious way to get into them. Does he need an Immortal with specific magic to get them down there? Or maybe the magic is in the flowers themselves? He wonders if it is possible for the flowers to sense the magic within them, since there is a way for the caves to sense Compulsion.

“I. . . have no idea,” he admits, too many ideas running through his head.

“Seriously?” Keith sounds irritated as he looks into the distance. “I’m going to check it out.”

“Wait!” He doesn’t feel comfortable with Keith wandering through the juniberries when he isn’t in the best state to run after him and the sun is still up. Hunters and Vampires are more likely to be on the prowl now, and Lance is still too weakened by the sunlight to be chasing anyone. Keith can handle himself, and Lance can, too, but it would be best if they are both able to fight together.

Lance wills the sun to set faster, both for his own physical comfort and so he doesn’t have to continue awkward conversation with Keith. He doesn’t know too much about the caves, sadly. Hunk’s and Pidge’s correspondence was too infrequent for Lance to have had the chance to ask his questions prior to starting these last-minute plans with Keith.

Keith, surprisingly, does wait. “What do you know about these caves, then?”

“They’re magically enforced”—spells cast by Immortals so Vampires can’t go in alone—“so we go in together.”

“Right.” Keith clearly has little belief in Immortal magic, despite seeing it firsthand with Florona.

Earth doesn’t have a high presence of Immortals. People have mostly assumed that Immortals side with Vampires because they’re more useful to Vampires than Humans are, so a lot of Immortals relocated to Altea or hid their power. As Immortals are essentially Human, they can both provide their blood and magic to Vampires, and many Humans of Earth assumed Immortals wanted to increase their shortened lifespans with Vampire protection (or through being Turned).

The Garrison regards Immortals as good allies—the princess of Altea is an Immortal, after all—but ones that could not initially be trusted, people that needed to prove themselves first. He knows that the Garrison used to have their own types of research regarding the Immortals, but that had been shut down maybe a decade ago because of too many research failures. No one really talks about that, anymore.

“Right. So there’s no point in you running ahead.”

Keith shrugs, and Lance almost laughs because he knows Keith wants to run ahead anyway. “And no one’s broken in before because?”

As the sun sinks further into the horizon, Lance is able to lift his head more. “The Immortal can’t be Compelled, for one thing.”

“Immortal?” Keith looks thoughtful. “I’m not. . . Does that matter?”

“It shouldn’t.” Truthfully, though, Lance doesn’t know. Altea has a lot of Immortals, is protected by an Immortal, has a royal line of Immortals, so it makes sense that the caves would rely on a Vampire and an Immortal pair.

Maybe he should’ve brought Florona, after all. He would be feeling a lot less pained and fatigued if Florona were still here, and he would probably be less stressed, too. She is a calming presence.

“Well, I’m not Compelled, so that’s one thing right.” Keith gives him a lopsided smile, gaze hidden under his bangs, and Lance, unsure of why, finds himself smiling back. Florona would have looked at him. Keith hides his eyes. But it feels like a good step between them, somehow.

 _There are more things I’d like to get right with you_ , Lance wants to say, because the words would flow so easily from his lips if Florona—if _anyone_ —were here instead. _Let me show you what else we can get right_.

“I guess,” Lance says. Keith’s smile fades nearly as fast as it appeared.

The sun sets a few minutes later, and Lance watches as the sky turns orange to purple to near black, staying at an even darkness. The juniberries look pretty, still, glowing pale pink in the dim light.

Lance hesitantly pulls down his hood. His joints still feel stiff, and his fingers ache when he moves his hands, but his rapid Vampire healing soothes the heat of his skin. Areas that felt sunburned are quickly becoming softer again (as soft as a Vampire’s hard skin can really be), easier to move. He stretches his arms in relief.

“Let’s not do that again,” Lance announces, changing the subject.

“I _knew_ it!”

“Knew what?”

“Vampires can’t go out in the sunlight.” Keith seems much too proud to hear Lance’s words. “I was wondering how you were going to do it, but you _weren’t_ fine, were you?”

Lance frowns. His body is still a lot more tired than he’s ever felt since being Turned. His Vampire healing helped repair the physical damage, but the underlying fatigue won’t go away for a while. He’ll need to feed.

He remembers stumbling around after leaving Daibazaal, burned by the sun and left even more weakened for the following days. Silver and sunlight are the best weapons against Vampires, and Lance is frustrated at himself for having ended up in situations with both in the past few days alone, _knowing_ how his body reacts.

“I’m still new at this!” he exclaims defensively. He brushes his fingers over the top of the pack at his side, the vials of Hunk’s blood offering him some semblance of comfort.

 _If you drink a little now, you won’t be weakened any longer. Just one little taste of_ Human _blood. . ._

He'll need the blood later, probably. If he's lucky, he won't need it at all, soon enough.

“So _older_ Vampires can ‘handle’ the sunlight,” Keith starts, appraising Lance. “It’s just _you_.”

Lance makes a rather unattractive indignant sound. “Ex _cuse_ you!”

Keith rolls his eyes. “But the sunlight can’t be a myth. We’ve seen the sun’s effects on Vampires.”

That hadn’t been grounds for Keith to begin questioning him again. Lance bites his lip, feels his fangs puncture his skin before the wound begins to close, then sighs. At least these questions are easier for him: Vampire lore is something with which he’s more comfortable now, especially compared to Keith’s prior Daibazaal prisoner questions.

“Newer Vampires definitely can’t handle the sun,” Lance agrees. He shifts on his feet, then starts walking toward the flowers outside of the woods. “But the older ones usually have enough blood in them that they heal right after, so they can manage the burning afterward.”

Keith is quick to follow him. “And you haven’t had enough blood?”

“I mean, Vampires need blood to survive, so. . .” Lance knows all too well what it means to be without Human blood. He hasn’t explained his unusual feeding habits to Keith—because it isn’t his business—but he thinks it’s pretty obvious that he isn’t the type to feed off random Humans, that he has more than enough restraint considering he’s bringing a limited supply of blood to last their entire journey.

Keith is quiet for a moment, thinking. “Do you need blood, then?”

Not this again. Any steps they were making are dashed by Keith’s blunt attitude. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Lance clenches his hands into fists, letting out a tight breath. Why isn’t he surprised at how quickly Keith jumps to being _rude_ to him? “Stop asking me that.”

“We’re about to go into the only Vampire-free territory left, and you’ve clearly lied before.” They’re both making their way to the juniberries at a fast pace, Keith just a few steps in front of him. His voice seems so much louder. “Excuse me for being concerned.”

“I’m not about to go on a feeding spree, _Keith_!”

His voice carries much more loudly than he would like, and he hears insects fluttering away from him, animals scampering in the opposite direction. He thinks he hears footsteps in the distance, but those, too, fade almost immediately. He feels out of breath after shouting, throat dry and words repeating in his head on a loop so he can wallow in his feelings. It is a mix of how much passion had been in his voice and how weary he still is after his excursion in the sun.

Florona wouldn’t have said anything like this.

He has the blood he needs. He doesn’t need these constant reminders, doesn’t need Keith accusing him of wanting to hurt people. Lance isn’t like that, has _never_ been that kind of person. He would never. Just because he’s a Vampire now (and hopefully soon he won’t be a Vampire any longer) doesn’t mean he’s lost everything.

“I’m not like that,” Lance says quietly. Keith riles him up so _easily_ , so _effortlessly_.

“I know. . .” Keith looks very frustrated, rubbing his thumb and index finger together as he calms himself down. “I just. . . You. . . Sorry.” He mumbles some more, to himself rather than to Lance.

Lance hears him, of course, despite how quiet his voice is. His emotions calm. Keith. . . needs to stop doing this to him.

He supposes that the more time they’ll spend together, the more he’ll get accustomed to Keith’s manner of speaking (of interacting with people in general). For now, it feels like Keith is jumping at chances to argue with him, and he doesn’t know if he wants to think any more deeply about it.

He touches the vials at his side again. He’s tempted to drink, so at the very least he’ll have some energy when they go through the caves. But Hunk supplied him with eight small vials of his blood. If he drinks too much now, there is the possibility he’ll run out in Altea, and it’s both bad manners and awful practice to expect blood to be willingly volunteered by the Alteans when he’s essentially sneaking into their territory uninvited.

He doesn’t need blood yet. and he’s _not_ drinking from Keith.

“So! The flowers are pretty!” Lance declares with a fake smile, ending the conversation and surging forward so Keith is forced to follow him now.

The flowers stand tall against their ankles, and it looks like Keith is taking care to try not to crush them. Lance shakes his head, as though he’s judging Keith even though he, too, doesn’t want to ruin the flowers. The juniberries are beautiful.

Lance looks around carefully. The patch of flowers is wide but surrounded by grass with different flowers, nowhere near as magical as the juniberries. It is clear that this is the area that will lead them into Altea, if Pidge’s letters are correct, but Lance can’t figure out _how_.

He walks around the flower field, feeling the dirt and grass under his feet, trying to tell if there is any obvious entrance, places where the ground is uneven, where there might be a trap door of some kind. There are no places where the flowers look different, no areas where a formation of rocks could be blocking a path to the caves. If the flowers are supposed to sense a Vampire and Human working together without magic, Lance and Keith are both very available and standing in the midst of the juniberries.

Lance can feel Keith’s eyes following him as he wanders the juniberry field, but he tries to ignore it as he begins to panic.

He can’t find _anything_ that even _remotely_ hints at a possible entrance to Altea. Pidge’s letters detailed caves and tunnels, but Lance can’t feel anything. He’s observant, he’s good at noticing and planning and finding things. But right now, there is nothing to find.

Immortal magic is protecting the entrance, he knows. He also figures that the juniberries are the key, somehow. But he can’t piece how they connect. Does he really need an Immortal’s magic to enter? Florona is long gone, now, and he isn’t the type to use his Vampire charm to win over an Immortal to help him into Altea. It’s already strange enough that Keith is willing to do this.

But how would the flowers recognize that an Immortal and Vampire are working together? How would the magic be able to tell that no magic is binding them? Is there something he and Keith need to do? Is there a code he needs to say? Is there anything he can do, at this point?

He paces the flowers again, much more slowly this time, searching for any slight hint of entry, any residual magic, _anything_.

“What now?” Keith’s voice sounds far away, but he’s standing in the field of juniberries as well, looking around because Lance is looking around, imitating a lot of Lance’s movements in an attempt to be helpful. Lance appreciates the effort, even as his own hopeless feelings begin to rise and overtake his old optimism.

“How would a Vampire and Immortal pair end up underground?” Lance mutters to himself. “How else can we enter here?”

Though it is obvious Lance is talking to himself, Keith still offers, “Digging?”

“We are _not_ digging,” Lance grumbles, though the idea sounds like a decent backup plan. He doubts it would work—he thinks he remembers Pidge’s letter talking about digging and magic not being ways to enter or leave, but his memory of the letters is questionable. But at least it’s _something_ , compared to standing in the flower field like idiots, hoping for something that isn’t meant to be.

Keith makes a noise that sounds like he’s thinking, and he continues pacing in the flowers. “Well, how else are we supposed to get in?”

“I’m _thinking_!”

Why couldn’t Pidge have shared _this_ secret? He thought it would have been clearer once he saw the flowers. Now, he isn’t sure of anything.

Was this really all for nothing? Did he twist the words in Pidge’s letters to match what he wanted so desperately? His memory is failing him now, and all he sees in his head are fragments of the words and phrases she wrote. Flowers. Caves. Immortals. Vampires. He’s never going to make it into Altea, never going to see his family again, never going to feel the sun or taste real food or be himself.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but it’s almost enough that Lance is ready to concede. He thought an idea would come to him, but despite all of his pacing and searching and imagining, he’s still stuck.

If there is magic here, it would have revealed itself by now.

He leans down and plucks a flower from the ground, twirling it by its stem.

“They’re pretty,” he says again, voice wobbly before he realizes and can cut himself off.

He holds back the sound of frustration threatening to bubble from his throat. Keith is still watching him, and the last thing he wants is for Keith to see him break down. All the same, he feels something catch in his throat.

He’s going to be stuck like this, stuck out here, stuck as a hopeless monster, stuck stealing lives and drinking blood and stuck _alive_ when everyone else—

“Hey,” Keith starts, uncomfortably. He’s stiff as he walks toward Lance. “Uhhh. Are you. . .” His hand hovers in the air, unsure, and Lance twirls the flower in his fingers. Is Keith going to _touch_ him? His heart skips a beat, and he stares at Keith’s gloved hand as it quivers, stuck mid-motion in the air as he’s reaching toward Lance.

“No,” he whispers, unsure of what he wants, what he doesn’t want. He’s not okay, and he knows that’s what Keith is trying to ask.

Keith audibly swallows and seems torn between withdrawing his hand and continuing to reach forward. “We. . . can figure it out.” His voice is soft, but his words are stilted. Keith has an obvious lack of experience or ability to comfort people, but the effort is enough.

Lance nods, tries to smile back. “Yeah?” Keith seems to relax at Lance’s acceptance, and he reaches out in what feels like slow motion to touch Lance’s hand, fingertips brushing the soft petals of the juniberry flower. Lance stops breathing.

“We. . . It’ll. . . be okay.” He isn’t touching Lance’s hand exactly. He’s touching the flower. But he’s basically touching Lance’s hand, which is enough for his mind to freeze just a bit. “Is it okay if I. . .”

Keith is _touching_ him. Keith is sort of _holding his hand_.

Someone wants to touch him?

Oblivious to the effect of his gesture, Keith pushes, continues, “What if we try—”

There’s a blinding light, and then they fall.

It’s a testament to Keith’s agility that he lands on the cave floor gracefully. Lance, on the other hand, falls in the most uncoordinated way, as he flounders back and tries to pull himself from Keith’s touch. He ends up landing on top of Keith, so they both crash onto the ground.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. He can hear Keith’s heavy breathing, feel Keith’s heartbeat pounding in his chest. His mind is still stuck on Keith. Holding his _hand_.

For months now, it has just been Hunk, and then Florona willing to touch him. Keith doesn’t even _like_ him.

(He doesn’t even like Keith!)

Keith hadn’t made eye contact, of course, but he never would have expected _Keith_ of all people to initiate this kind of contact. Keith’s been closed off since before they started traveling together, not willing to divulge even the slightest hint of why he chose to work with a Vampire, but then today he was willing to touch Lance’s hand. He wanted to create some type of bond between them. They were arguing right before, have been arguing since the trip started.

They need to get back to that. Lance needs them to start fighting again.

They’re supposed to be fighting. Lance doesn’t like Keith, hasn’t liked him since the Garrison. They’re _rivals_ , and now he’s a supernatural creature to emphasize they aren’t meant to get along. Keith is. . . _Keith_!

“Lance. . .”

“Well, we're here!” Lance declares, jumping up and off of Keith like the slightest touch burns.

(He definitely feels warm when he touches Keith, but it is due to the distinct difference in their body temperatures, he’s sure.)

Keith looks at Lance for what feels like a long time, and Lance wonders if maybe he shouldn’t have chosen to run. Finally, Keith sighs. “Shouldn’t you have Vampire reflexes? Why do you keep landing on me?”

Lance latches on to that, trying to avoid whatever it was that just happened between them. Florona slept in his arms. He flirted with her and smiled with her (and didn’t feel this way at all) and had an amazing time. Just, _no_. “You’re the _greatest_ Hunter of our _generation_ , shouldn’t you have caught me?”

“What? Why?”

“Keith,” he says, voice serious, “I’m a catch.”

Keith looks positively confused. “But why should I have to catch you?”

“Because I’m a _catch_.” Lance sighs. Rather than explain further, he starts looking around.

These Altean caves are some of the prettiest natural structures Lance has ever seen. Instead of bleak gray stones, the caves are made of glowing pink and teal crystals, and the air smells fresh and flowery (like the juniberries) instead of moldy and wet and stale, the way Lance has always figured that caves smell.

“Huh.” Keith has his arms crossed, but he’s looking around as well. “We actually. . . made it?”

Lance sighs in relief. They’re in the caves. They made it. They’re getting to Altea.

He’s going to Altea.

He has no idea what they did to get here, or how the caves decided to let them enter, or what secrets lay in wait, but they're here. He isn't going to question the mysteries of Immortal magic, when he'd done just about everything to enter and they fell in once he plucked a flower.

Had picking a juniberry been the reason?

They’ve somehow landed in the middle of a cavern, and they can head in two different directions before the tunnels will surely split again. Lance doesn’t quite understand how these tunnels ended up so complex, since he assumed it was just to go from under the juniberry flowers to the inside of Altea, but perhaps they go deeper into and out of Altea than Pidge’s letters described.

But why create these tunnels, unless there was a reason to want Vampires to enter Altea? There’s so much to learn, once they’re inside the barrier.

“This is how Vampires can get into Altea,” Keith mutters, almost echoing Lance’s thoughts.

“Which way should we go?” The bright light and the fall was disorienting, and Lance can’t remember the direction they were facing (which most likely would be the direction to travel to get into Altea).

After looking at both directions of the tunnels, he points backward at a particularly bright blue stone. “There’s something this way.”

“You _feel_ something.”

Keith glares at him. “You have a better feeling?”

Lance shrugs. Keith had the feeling that Lance knows about Daibazaal (could smell his association with the Galra, or whatever it was that he had said), and he was _technically_ right. He’s probably right about this, too, and Lance has no better ideas, but Lance isn’t about to tell him that. “If we end up lost it’s your fault.”

“Your ‘secret source’ didn’t think to give directions?” Keith gestures for Lance to start following him.

“I wish.” He walks next to Keith, stretching his arms behind his head. His body is still exhausted from being out in the sun for so long, but the mental reprieve more than makes up for it.

He’s so relieved they made it into the caves in the first place, he’s sure they’ll find a way out. They’re in a pretty place without sunlight, and he has blood to last him however long it will take (which hopefully won’t be too long). Everything feels like it’s going right for once.

They walk in silence again, lost in their own thoughts. Everything looks the same as they walk, large bright gems glowing to light their path, dirt and small stones scattering under their feet.

Lance wonders if he wants to start a conversation with Keith. It’s so easy to be annoyed with him, so easy for them to argue. But it’s better than the moments where they get along, when Keith seems like an actual person and not some unreachable Hunter. They’re rare moments, but when they happen, he doesn’t know what to do. Sure, they had made awkward conversation before traveling together; it was just a lot easier talking to Florona about literally _anything_.

He opens his mouth to speak, then frowns, ears perking, almost thankful for the excuse not to make small talk. “Did you hear that?”

Keith nods, drawing his blade. “Do you think they’re Alteans?”

Lance hopes that Alteans are coming to greet them, but he thinks he recognizes the footsteps he’s hearing. He’s heard the pattern before. Something awful churns in his gut, and he has a sudden urge to vomit, though he hasn’t fed in a while and he’s sure nothing will come up. “Let’s keep going.”

Keith looks like he wants to run toward whoever is coming toward them.

“Hey,” Lance grabs Keith’s arm—with care, so he doesn’t grab too tight and hurt Keith unintentionally—and tugs him back. Assuming they’re being followed by Vampires, anything he says is audible. He tries to communicate silently: _We have some surprise. They think we don’t know._

Keith keeps his blade drawn, but his lower lip juts out in a small pout. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll hear if they’re coming.” Lance moves to stand behind Keith. If they are attacked, he, as the immortal Vampire, is less likely to be permanently hurt.

They hasten their pace, and Lance lets Keith lead them down the paths he _feels_ will take them to Altea. After a minute of walking, he doesn’t hear the footsteps at all. This doesn’t help ease any of his worries. Instead, he strains his hearing that much harder.

Has someone followed them down here? Have people been waiting for them this entire time? Is this whole situation a trap?

“I don’t hear anything at all,” Keith decides, not much later. He’s still poised to attack at any moment, which Lance finds he appreciates now, since he doesn’t know what to expect.

Why wouldn’t he hear anything now? The caves behind him are a small enough distance for him to hear well enough. Unless. . .

Lance swallows back whatever his body suddenly wants to throw up, trying to look unaffected. He’s more than affected, though. He feels so stupid. He thought he could open up again, thought someone might be willing to look past. . . “Don’t say ‘I told you so,’” he warns, moving his body into a better position so he’s blocking Keith from the people coming toward them.

“What are you talking about?”

“I. . .” It’s better not to keep up pretenses, not to lie. They’re going to be forced to fight, anyway. “It’s a Vampire.” Because the Vampire hears him, the barrier filtering out their noise (protecting them) drops. He doesn’t want to say it. “And an Immortal.”

Their footsteps echo more clearly, now, slow and almost ominous, and Keith stiffens at the sound.

The Vampire, the same one they’d first encountered, comes into view, a smirk decorating his lips. His large body hides an Immortal behind him—a complacent party, since no Vampires can enter without a non-Compelled Immortal, Lance thinks bitterly—though it appears the Immortal is choosing to hide, and the Vampire has no qualms.

They were getting along so well. He thought he finally met someone who liked him, regardless of the Vampire he’d become. He’d been himself for her, laughed and joked with her. She reminded him of what it meant to be _alive_.

He should have known it was too good to be true for _him_.

“Long time no see,” Lance says dully, as though his heart isn’t twisting inside his chest.

Florona’s eyes are wide and looking everywhere but at Lance, lips drawn into a small pout.

Lance frowns. Keith turns to look at him.

The Vampire makes no moves toward them, simply appraising the pair. “Interesting. The Galra didn’t do well with you.”

Lance can feel Keith’s eyes on him, and he forces himself to smile instead. Like Florona being there doesn’t bother him. Like being told by a Galra Vampire that he’s useless isn’t insulting.

It’s a compliment, he tells himself. He doesn’t want to be successful to the Galra. He was able to leave because he was a failure. He didn’t realize this Vampire had recognized Lance’s Vampire origins. He hadn’t acknowledged them during their last encounter. But then, the Vampire must have recognized there was more use to them this way. Keith had unwittingly broadcasted their plans last night, anyway.

Keith is still staring at Lance, though, and Lance wonders how he can get Keith to stop _looking_ at him. He wants Keith to stop _pitying_ him. Lance already knows his shortcomings, he doesn’t need _Keith_ pointing them out, too.

He knows he’s a bad Vampire, just like he hadn’t been a good Hunter, just like he hadn’t been a good test subject for the Galra. He obviously hadn’t been a very good companion to Florona—despite hiding the aspects of himself that make him a Vampire, she hadn’t liked his Human personality enough to want to stick around.

He scrambles for something to say that he knows will pull Keith’s gaze away. “So you’re Galra, then?”

“Of course.”

Keith seems to perk up (Lance almost laughs at how easy it is to distract him), as if realizing exactly what situation they’re in and what he could potentially ask from someone other than Lance. He shrugs off his backpack, kicking it aside.

The Vampire grins, fangs glinting. Lance can’t stop Keith from running forward and doing stupid things (though he can sure as hell _try_ ), but there’s something menacing about the obviously hungry way this Vampire is eyeing Keith now that they’re in close quarters. The Vampire hadn’t been so obvious, before. But now that they’ve led him here. . .

 _That’s why you were supposed to drink from him, first_. Lance licks his lips unthinkingly, then shakes the thought away. A small part of him finds relief that it isn’t just him, that Keith’s scent is taunting other Vampires, too, but the realization that a Galra Vampire wants to drink from his traveling partner doesn’t sit well with Lance.

“Looking to become a Vampire, Hunter?” _I’ll bite you myself_ is the unspoken thought Lance is _sure_ the Vampire is thinking. He’s certainly thinking it.

“I’ll have to pass.”

“That wasn’t an offer.” His smirk is much wider now, his fangs sharp and dangerous.

Keith looks infuriated. “Do you _force_ people to Tu—”

Lance can’t stop him when Keith charges toward the Vampire, managing somehow to knock him over despite their ridiculous height difference. In a blur of movements, Keith is slashing at the Vampire, his small blade a formidable weapon in his hands.

As Keith has beaten this Vampire before, it can’t be too long before he’s close to beating the Vampire again.

“We can do a lot with you.”

The Vampire parries attacks with his left arm, and the combination of his size and vampirism make it easy for him to throw Keith backward. Before he can hit Keith, though, Lance dashes in, pulling Keith back and out of the Vampire’s reach. If Keith starts bleeding, Lance isn’t sure he trusts what will happen.

“Really, Keith?”

Keith tugs himself out of Lance’s grip. Lance relinquishes his hold easily, not wanting to grasp Keith too tight but not wanting Keith to go running back into the fight either. “Let go!” He feels Florona staring at him. “I can handle this.”

(Keith doesn’t even need him.)

Lance rolls his eyes. Like he’s going to let Keith do this alone.

They both charge toward the Vampire. Because of his size and strength, he tosses them both aside easily, catching their punches in his hands and throwing them in opposite directions. Lance hears Keith grunt when he hits the cave wall, but they're both quick to jump back up, though Keith runs back to fight the Vampire before Lance does.

Lance feels strangely dizzy, and he knows he needs more blood but he just can't right now.

Keith is punching at the Vampire's stomach as a form of distraction, then ducking under his retaliation swipe to slash at the Vampire's arm with his knife. With a snarl, the Vampire throws Keith back again, and Lance shakes his pain away and jumps back into the brawl, using his own strength to catch the Vampire's outstretched arm and force him backward.

“Immortal.” The Vampire doesn’t tear his eyes from Keith, though, and Lance feels a bit uneasy. Keith runs back at the Vampire, stake already in his hands.

“Sendak.” Florona stands taller, now at attention.

Lance swallows, clenching his hands into fists. She knows the Vampire’s name. Has she always known? Has she always planned on doing this?

Is Lance just that easy to manipulate?

“Trap the Vampire,” the Vampire—Sendak—instructs.

Shit. He doesn’t give himself time to think, dashing toward Keith. His fingers are just close enough he can almost brush the threads of Keith’s stupid red jacket, and then the barrier rises.

Fuck fuck _fuck_.

“Keith!” Lance shouts, unable to prevent his voice from breaking. Behind the barrier, though, his words are meaningless. He can’t _act_ on anything. Florona seems unfazed by Lance’s desperation, stoic as she stares at the interaction between Keith and the Vampire she led here.

Florona’s magic is like a dome of light around him, and she pulls the dome backward and forces him to stumble and follow or risk being shocked by a painful electric current. Keith can’t focus long on Lance, though, and he skids out of the way of a large sweep of Sendak’s arm. “Stay there!” he shouts, not even glancing back as he runs toward Sendak.

“Sure, sure,” Lance grumbles, irritation leaking into his tone. What else is he _supposed_ to do? “Feel free to join me, anytime.”

He hears Florona’s soft chuckle, and his heart aches. He wanted to see her again, but not like this. Her laugh reminds him that she’s still Florona, though. She’s the Florona he smiled and flirted with, she has to be.

Dust scatters around them, and Lance chooses to trust in Keith’s fighting ability, turning away from his Hunter partner to focus on the Immortal trapping him instead. He can hear Keith’s fight, after all. He wonders how many different types of barriers Florona can make. Immortal magic has to have limits, he’s sure.

His best bet now is to understand Florona’s motivations.

“Since when do you work for the Galra?” He raises an eyebrow at her.

She bites her lip, looking into Lance’s eyes then back at Sendak. The action solidifies Lance’s realization that she never needed eye contact to conjure a barrier. With sudden clarity, he remembers several instances where she looked away, but he was still shielded from the sun. He almost wants to laugh at himself.

He fell for it. He wanted what she was offering, and he chose to fall for it.

“Florona. . .”

“I. . . Queen Luxia. . .”

Lance feels nauseous again. The pieces fall together too quickly, and he hates that he didn’t think of this possibility earlier. He’s good at observing and coming up with plans. He’s good at reading people. He remembers their conversations, how fondly she speaks of Luxia, how she seemed sad about leaving the Gardens. She couldn’t have been Compelled to enter here, and it seems that only one person could have brought the situation to this.

“What happened?”

Florona looks away, dropping the barrier so quickly Lance only half-reacts. The barrier is back up before he gets anywhere near Keith. The magic of Florona’s spell pulls him backward and further away from their fight, electric shocks zapping through him so he is forced to tail Florona as they distance themselves from the clash between the Hunter and Vampire. Barely healed from his excursion in the sun, this is just added injury to his worn-out body. He exhales shakily.

Her barrier shift is enough to keep Keith from staking Sendak, and Keith ducks out of the way of one of Sendak’s retaliation hits to grab his stake from the cave floor.

Along with not needing eye contact, it seems like Florona’s magic is limited to creating just one barrier at a time. He files this note to the back of his mind, hoping it’ll be useful.

“Keep her busy!” Keith demands, sounding short of breath as he runs back toward Sendak.

"Anything for a pretty girl," Lance quips, without thinking. He flushes pink when he realizes what he's said.

Florona blushes as well, but the tiny smile on her lips is shoved aside before Lance can determine if it was really there. It’s enough, though. She’d been honest with him before. He knows she was honest. He reaches toward her, the gesture stopped by her magic, the painful spark rushing through him as a reminder that they’re much more distant than ever. “Why?”

She looks torn. She hasn’t spoken much, which is different than Lance is accustomed, from her. “It wasn’t because of you, Lance,” she whispers, finally. “Sendak. . .”

“Immortal!”

The barrier fades again, relocated elsewhere, and Lance sprints toward Sendak this time. He needs to do _something_ , he’s waiting for Keith to do _everything_ and he hates it. His kicks are stronger than his punches, so he uses his legs. He manages to get one heavy kick in—so he thinks Florona moved the barrier to surround Keith rather than Sendak—and he puts all of his strength into the kick, proud of the sound his foot makes with the other Vampire’s chest.

“Move it, Keith!”

He doesn’t get the chance to see if Keith listens before Sendak shoves him aside.

The hit causes him to smash against the cave wall, dizzying him, and Florona is quick to conjure another barrier to further incapacitate him, shocking him when he tries to move.

The amount of time it takes for him to recover is almost embarrassing for what he’s sure is a trivial Vampire injury. But his head continues to ache, and his body stings with the electricity of her barrier. His fingers move to the vials of blood at his side almost instinctively, and he realizes that he hasn’t fed in what might be becoming too long.

Especially for how much time he spent unprotected in the sunlight and how much fighting he’ll need to do now.

“You okay?” Keith calls out.

Keith grunts, and Lance hears Sendak’s own fighting sounds, the sounds of cave rocks scattering across the ground as both fighting parties fall back.

“Lance?”

“Mmm?” Lance realizes he hasn’t responded, and he doesn’t know what to say. He isn’t alright. The situation has fallen far out of his control, and his body is protesting every movement he wants to make. He looks up with bleary eyes, watching as Keith stabs his knife through Sendak’s chest, letting his guard down for a moment so he can turn and face Lance, eyebrows drawn in concern.

“Lance—”

In seconds Sendak has Keith pinned to the cave wall, his teeth at Keith’s neck despite Keith’s knife lodged in him.

He hears Keith’s gasp when Sendak’s fangs clamp down, feels tense when the sound processes in his head, and he recognizes the Vampire’s noise of appreciation before the smell of Keith’s blood hits. It is the most tantalizing thing Lance has ever been forced to smell, and now it is fresh and open and hanging in the air. Hunger pangs through him, mind clearing so he can recognize _this_.

_You should have fed from Keith first._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are coming together hmmmmm :3
> 
> what did you think of this chapter? how do you like Florona? and Sendak (finally there's some blood drinking in my vampire!au ohohoho)?? and keith and lance being dummy boys lol. . .
> 
> let me know what you think here or on [tumblr](http://ssuppositiouss.tumblr.com) (pls)!!


	7. blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol remember how this was supposed to be a fic for the klance big bang? six months later I've finally gotten to the first art. . . Thank you for being so patient with me and for following along this far! 
> 
> The art in this chapter is by the lovely [tiburme](http://tiburme.tumblr.com); she was such an amazing partner for the bang (and she also drew my icon ohoho) and now you get to see her art in-fic.
> 
> Also! I now have a beta because I confuse myself with my words sometimes, and [mushroomgarden144p](http://mushroomgarden144p.tumblr.com) is absolutely terrific (and caught all my awful confusing scenes) so this chapter is probs much more understandable than the other ones haha.
> 
> On to the chapter!

**just a small taste**

Lance has never felt like more of a Vampire. Even when he’s injured, even when he’s fighting, he’s never had such a strong urge to grab his _prey_ and sink his fangs into such soft, pliant skin. He feels his fangs lengthen, excess venom pooling in his mouth as if he were the one biting into Keith. His body is painfully aware that Keith’s blood isn’t his to take— _but it could be, you can make that wish a reality_ , reminds the voice in his head—and he aches for blood, he yearns for _Keith’s_ blood.

He should be trying to get out of this, but his mind is stuck on how he wants to be the one biting Keith. He wants to be in Sendak’s place, drinking Keith’s sweet blood, digging his fingers into Keith’s warm Human skin, inhaling the pretty smell he’s always exuded, holding Keith in his arms.

His muscles tighten, ready to pounce. His own blood is rushing rushing _rushing_ so he can shove aside this other Vampire and break through Florona’s barrier and _take_. Hunk’s blood has never smelled this good, no matter how hungry Lance is. No one’s blood has ever done this to him.

Is blood supposed to smell like this? Make him feel like this? Make him _want_ so badly?

Sendak’s pained shout makes Lance’s ears ache, tugging him away from his own horrid fantasy: how much can he drink from Keith before it’s too much? How bad can it be to drink from someone who hasn’t offered, from someone he doesn’t like (but that isn’t true, is it), from _Keith_?

Keith pulls free.

Lance sees a wound on Sendak’s neck, blood on Keith’s knife, and he assumes that, in his hazy distraction, Keith pulled his knife out from Sendak’s chest and stabbed him in his neck.

Keith sheathes the knife with a wince and puts a hand to the bite on his neck. The wound isn’t too deep, hopefully, but there is still a decent amount of blood tainting the air with its scent (enough that Lance wants nothing more than to free himself from the spell he’s under, the barrier holding him back, and _drink_ ).

“Any chance you can get out of there?”

As though his thoughts hadn’t strayed in a terrible direction, Lance shouts back, “Oh, _now_ you want me!”

He touches the barrier gently, biting back the shriek of pain he wants to release at the electrocution to his fingertips. Shit, okay, so he won’t try that again. Why did Florona make the barrier around him a painful one?

Keith pulls another stake from one of the pockets of his belt. The stake he’d been fighting with earlier has been knocked aside somewhere else, but Keith is a good Hunter and he comes prepared.

“Keep your friend busy, then.” Keith throws a smirk in Lance’s direction.

It’s not the time, but the determined look on his face makes Lance’s lips turn up in the tiniest smile. Keith might be the most delicious thing he’s ever smelled—it’s not the time, it’s _not the time_ —but he’s also a fighter. He’s their generation’s greatest Hunter for a reason. He’ll get out of this.

(He hates that he recognizes this strength in Keith. Would Lance have inspired such confidence, had he stayed Human?)

Sendak’s wounds from Keith’s knife heal with surprising ease. Lance swears the knife is coated in silver, though, and injuries from silver should take a while to heal, regardless of the amount of blood in a Vampire’s system. Sendak is healing quicker than Lance thinks should be possible.

(But then, Lance is also a failed experiment, and he might not be as strong of a Vampire as he could be, as strong as Sendak is. He certainly doesn’t feed as much as Sendak.)

Keith fights with one hand covering the bite on his neck, weaving through Sendak’s hits like it’s second nature. He recognizes the danger of a Vampire’s bloodlust, and it is smart to try and hide the smell, but Lance doesn’t know if it’s more harm than good for Keith to be using one arm to fight. The stake isn’t good for causing injury the way his knife was, but Keith still manages to get a few cuts on Sendak.

The scratches do little to debilitate him, though, healing with a speed Lance once again finds unusual.

With a snarl, as though the fight has been going for too long, Sendak stops. He demands, calm and loud and smug enough in the power he wields that Lance wants to tear through the barrier and _kill_ him: “Stop fighting me, Immortal.”

There is a pause, a silence that feels much too long, a fragile quiet.

And Lance watches, horrified, as Keith drops the stake. The sound of it hitting the floor of the cave echoes enough to make Lance’s heart race. Shit. _Shit_.

“You didn’t actually _look_ at him, did you?” Lance reaches forward, yelping as the electricity crackles through him. He withdraws his hand, cradling it to his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Florona looking at him in concern. “C’mon, Keith!”

How did they get into this situation? Why is this happening _now_? Keith’s mouth is pulled into an angry line, and Lance can see, can _feel_ , the anger and frustration rolling off of him.

Keith makes eye contact with Lance—why does Keith choose the worst times to make eye contact with Vampires when he absolutely _refused_ to look at Lance the past few days—as he kicks his leg petulantly. Lance can’t read the meaning in his gaze.

“What do _you_ think?” He still sounds snarky.

“ _Keith_!”

They learned in their first training classes not to make eye contact with Vampires because of Compulsion. Why would Keith look a Vampire in the eyes? Why is he looking at Lance now? _Why_ is this happening to them?

Sendak grins at his hold over Keith. “Give me more of your blood.”

Lance has made a point to _not_ Compel anyone. The guilt he feels afterward is enough to make him regret any pleasant feelings he might experience, and there isn’t anything he wants enough to take away people’s free will while they’re still aware, unable to stop their bodies from listening to someone else’s commands.

“You’ve had enough.”

Lance is still weak from their excursion in the sunlight, weak from Sendak’s hit, weak from touching Florona’s electric barriers, weak to the tantalizing smell of _Keith Kogane_.

He touches the vials of blood at his side, biting his lip. He can’t let the situation continue as it has. He’s been a bystander, weakened and useless, and he hates this feeling. He doesn’t want to be useless, he doesn’t want more people hurt under his watch. Keith already. . .

He pulls three vials from the pouch. So much for saving them.

“I’m curious,” Sendak says. “Something about you is. . . interesting.”

Is he really going to do this now?

(He hates this he hates this he hates this. He has to do it to survive, but he hates this, he hates himself. He always feels this way when he drinks.)

“Shame you won’t be getting more,” Keith throws back.

He downs the blood so fast he doesn’t recognize the flavor beyond the metallic taste on his tongue. He doesn’t want his mind to process what it is that he’s doing. He simply drinks and tosses the empty vials, the glass cracking against the stone cave floor.

The smell of Keith’s blood is too overwhelming, anyway, to the point that Hunk’s blood is almost bland. He mentally apologizes to Hunk. It’s something he never expected: blood is blood, he’d always figured, why be picky when you’re taking someone _else_ ’s life force.

Hunk’s blood helps ease the fatigue of his bones, the tiredness that keeps him so complacent. The return of his energy helps his mind function better, faster.

Florona’s voice seems sad, pulling his focus toward her. “Lance. . .”

He hates that she had to see him drink blood, that he had to remind her that he’s the creature threatening her people in the Gardens, the creature forcing her to hurt others and _watch_. He’d almost forgotten he could frighten people, that he’s no better than Sendak in a lot of ways.

“Give me your blood,” Sendak’s voice cuts through the air, freezing Lance in his spot.

 _Use your own magic, your own words. You can_ make _her listen to you._

“Florona, please.”

Maybe Florona says something in response, maybe she doesn’t. He thinks her lips move, but he doesn’t hear sound. He _smells_ , and that overpowers his other senses. Keith’s hand is no longer on his neck, and Lance’s eyes snap back toward Sendak and Keith.

 _No_!

Now that his scent is fully uncovered, blood drip-drip- _dripping_ from his wound, Lance is dazed. He wants to jump up and fight Sendak and drink Keith’s blood himself. He wants to be the one to take Keith’s blood, he needs to be the one taking it. It smells _amazing_.

“Keith!” He punches the barrier with all of the strength he’s gained from Hunk’s blood, screeching in agony as electricity burns through his veins and shocks his core. His body trembles and his legs shake, and he tries to use the cave wall as support. His body heals quickly with blood in him, but the pain persists. How had that not been enough? Maybe if the barrier wasn’t electric?

“Lance,” Keith grumbles, “now would be a great time to _do something_.”

Lost in his thoughts, his desires, Lance almost misses when Keith starts walking back toward Sendak’s open arms. He’s dragging his feet, moving so slowly that Lance almost believes Keith can overcome the Compulsion.

“Stop making eye contact, then!” he snaps, frantic as he searches for some way, _any_ way, out of this.

If anyone could resist Compulsion, stupid _Keith_ could. Where Lance might have been bitter at Keith’s skills before, he wouldn’t mind if Keith succeeds now.

“Lance!”

It would be a good time to rescue his idiot Hunter and free them both, but because of the barrier, he can’t move from this area of the cave. Florona is still standing there, silently, allowing this Galra Vampire to ruin Keith, of all people. His heart is pounding. His senses are dulled by the amazing scent of Keith’s blood.

“Florona,” he says, unable to look at her, unable to drag his eyes away from what’s happening with Keith. He needs to get them out of this, he needs to fix this. Hand still aching, he forces himself to kick the barrier, falling back as electricity surges through him. The coolness of the cave wall is such a relief as he leans against it. “Think about what’s happening. Keith is. . .”

“I can’t fight—”

“Lance!” The sound of his name makes Lance tremble. Keith is mere inches away from Sendak now. “You id—”

“Stay still,” Sendak breathes, honey in his tone, poison in his eyes as he Compels.

Keith goes still, and then he is pulled into Sendak’s grip, his gaze and tone murderous. “Don’t _touch_ me!”

“Florona,” Lance pleads. The more Keith and Sendak exchange words, the more desperate Lance becomes. He sees where the conversation is leading, and he feels powerless to stop it. He punches Florona’s barrier, biting back his yelp and rubbing his other hand over his singed knuckles. Did he not punch hard enough?

Before he brings his lips back to Keith’s neck, Sendak pauses. “You haven’t been very obedient, despite my Compulsion.”

Keith growls at him.

“Let’s change that.” Sendak looks like he’s appraising Keith’s face, but there’s a smirk on his lips that Lance wants nothing more than to smack off. “What could a Vampire do to a _Hunter_ to get you all riled up?”

Though he doesn’t say anything, Keith’s expression shows how much he wants to fight. His body is frozen still by the Compulsion, frozen in Sendak’s harsh grip. Lance bangs a fist on the barrier keeping him trapped, shrieking when the electric shock forces him back again, his skin _burned_ by the force of the barrier. Why isn’t he _strong_ enough?

 _You can be, if you Compel her, Compel_ him.

“Look at me.” Sendak grabs Keith’s arms and shakes him hard. Lance almost laughs at the annoyance in Sendak’s tone, though the moment is hardly funny. He’s holding his breath as he watches the interaction, dizzy as he stares.

“ _No_.” Keith’s stubborn defiance used to annoy Lance, but now it’s buying Lance more time, it’s protecting Keith, protecting them both.

But Keith is wavering.

“Keith! Look at me instead!” Lance calls desperately, as though his voice is strong enough to overpower Sendak’s.

Sendak squeezes Keith’s arms, and the pained gasp that escapes Keith’s lips is enough that Lance simultaneously wants to vomit and wants to be the Vampire in that position as well. _It could be you, it could be you. Keith obviously wants someone to drink from him, why not let it be you?_

“Florona!”

He can’t stop what’s happening, he can’t stop watching.

“Look. At. Me.” Sendak’s face is close to Keith’s, the command too close to be ignored.

There is a long pause, and Keith is clearly struggling, and whether it is against Sendak or Compulsion or himself, Lance isn’t sure. “No,” Keith grinds out, but he’s tilting his head up, slowly but surely, making very clear eye contact with Sendak.

Lance wants Keith to keep fighting, wills him to hold on, but he knows that if Keith keeps this up, he’ll die. And no matter how much Lance complains about the Hunter, he _really_ doesn’t want that. He clenches his hands in fists so tight his nails break his skin.

“Whenever a Vampire wants to feed from you,” and Sendak’s single eye is a bright red as his lips stretch into a wide smile across his fangs, so much arrogance and power in his Compulsion, “ _let_ them.”

“I’d _never_ —”

“Humans and Immortals were _made_ for Vampires.” His laugh echoes through the caves like ice down Lance’s neck. “Made to feed the _Galra_.” He pulls Keith into a position so it is easier for him to feed, Keith’s back to Sendak’s chest, Sendak’s hand around Keith’s neck to hold him close. It’s much too easy for Lance to blink and imagine himself in the same position, much too easy to think of himself holding Keith in his arms. “ _You_ , especially.”

“I—”

“ _Enjoy_.” Sendak’s lips are on Keith’s neck, fangs tearing into the bite he inflicted earlier.

“ _Ohhh_. . .” Keith goes slack in the Vampire’s hold, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a _very_ pretty moan.

Lance’s blood is hot. His throat is dry, and the smell of Keith’s blood and the sounds of another Vampire’s pleasure (and Keith’s soft little noises, too) are dizzying. Lance can’t stop watching and listening and _wanting_.

Keith looks so small compared to Sendak, nothing like the strong Hunter Lance has yet to understand. His sweet gasps of encouragement do nothing to stop Lance’s own over-active imagination from wandering, tormenting the little voice inside him that’s been pleading with him to drink from Keith since they first ran into each other not too long ago.

_You still can drink from him. Get rid of the girl. Compel her._

Sendak drinks and drinks, and, in a mix of his own jealousy and hunger and frustration, _finally_ Lance manages to tear his gaze away.

He can still hear the noises, still imagine Keith’s expression, still picture the awful, beautiful way Keith has been forced to concede. He hates himself for imagining that he is the Vampire in control, the one with Keith in his hands, Keith’s blood on his lips.

“Florona,” he begs, though he can’t stop picturing what he’s just seen. He runs his tongue over his lips, and a phantom taste of blood laughs at him. “You have to let me stop this.”

He’s too wary to touch the barrier again, but if it proves his point to her, he will.

“I can’t,” she whispers.

“Keith’s going to—”

“I can’t!”

“Florona!” He appreciates her stubbornness, that she’s so willing to talk to a Vampire like him. But now, he understands that maybe she only talked to him because she already dealt with another Vampire, and Lance is much less harmful in comparison. It hadn’t been anything about him.

“I. . . Everything’s out of my control”—she’s wringing her hands, biting her lip—“and Luxia would never. But Sendak. . .”

“What?”

“I can’t. . .” Her eyes are shining.

“We can help you out of this.” Lance swallows uncomfortably. When he closes his eyes to blink, he sees Keith in his arms, pictures himself in Sendak’s place. _Compel her, Compel her, Compel her._ “Just let down the barrier and you can come with me and Keith again.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I’ll. . . Compel you!” He means for it to sound like a threat, but his voice is too meek, his expression too desperate.

Florona doesn’t say anything.

_See? Her silence means she wants you to do it. Just give in._

Lance doesn’t want to Compel her. He doesn’t want to Compel anyone, _least of all_ her. “You can just drop the barrier. It’ll be like I Compelled you.”

Compulsion is from a dark part of his mind that talks to him and tells him to use his Vampire power without regard for the people he could hurt. It voices his deep temptations, reminds him that he’s still a Vampire, regardless of what he does and doesn’t do. He won’t give in to that dark part of him, not when there’s another way.

Keith is in this position because Lance wants to make sure he’s done everything to become Human again. Now, in the situation they’re in, he needs to be able to do everything to ensure their freedom.

He can’t look at Florona, can’t look at Keith, can’t look at Sendak. He can relate to her feelings, the need to do everything. They’re so similar, and yet not similar at all.

Finally, she whispers, “Sendak said not to fight him, Lance.”

If she lowers the barrier, is it really considered fighting Sendak? Compulsion is a powerful thing. If he Compels her to follow his direction instead, does that negate Sendak’s original command?

_Compel her._

Lance swallows, and there’s the slightest tinge of Hunk’s blood still in his mouth. Shivering, he tries not to let this visibly affect him. More and more, it seems like his only option is to give in. Florona is firm in her decision to side with Sendak, and she’s purposely magicked a barrier that hurts him.

He can understand her: she wants to do everything she can for Luxia, and she follows Sendak for that. She’s choosing him because he brings something, he _knows_ something. He can’t fault her when he himself isn’t going to accept that he’s a Vampire until he’s exhausted every option of trying to be Turned back.

But he's running out of ideas, out of options, out of _time_.

Her silence is telling. He wants to argue further, to talk sense into her. He’s good at talking to people, he’s persuasive beyond his Vampire Compulsion. He knows her.

Something about Sendak is holding her back from freeing Lance on her own. She doesn’t want to be the one to give up; she’ll be disappointing herself (disappointing Queen Luxia) if she betrays Sendak on her own.

But if Lance takes some of that burden from her, if he plays the role of the controlling Vampire, then maybe. . .

“You _want_ me to Compel you,” Lance starts slowly.

She says nothing, but she continues to stare at him. He fills in the pieces. He isn’t sure of her past, isn’t sure of why she works with Sendak, but he is sure of what he’s learned about her.

“Florona, that’s. . .”

Before he can continue, he sees the stake.

How did it get to him? Keith must have kicked it over, at some point. He’s expecting Lance to get them out of this. Lance can do this. He’ll free them.

His mind rushes to formulate a plan, the best course of action to take now that he has a potentially lethal weapon. He glances at Florona, and she’s maintaining steady eye contact with him, as usual.

“What do you _want_ , Florona?” He knows his voice sounds desperate, but she has to know, has to _understand_ what she’s asking of him.

“You know what I want,” she says, finally.

She wants him to take the choice away from her. She’s. . . waiting for him to Compel her. She _wants_ him to Compel her.

(She’s taking his choice away from him.)

So many thoughts are running through his head, and his heart is pounding so hard he’s dizzy. Time has passed, but not as slowly or as quickly as he thinks it has. He can’t tune out the sounds of Sendak’s pleasure, of Keith clearly enjoying the feeling of having his blood taken, unable to fight back. He hears the electric sparks of the barrier surrounding him, the soft sighs Florona makes as she stares at him.

He feels so helpless.

“I can’t Compel you.” Lance’s voice is soft, but he knows Florona hears him. It’s a similar tone to when they talked about missing home. It’s something they both have in common.

“I know.”

He glances back at Keith, at the horrifying way Keith has lost any semblance of control of the situation, and he has to be firm in his decision. He let this happen. He was the Vampire who stood aside and let the greatest Hunter of their generation become this whimpering mess.

 _But you would have been fine if Keith was like this because of you_ , sneers the voice in his head.

He’s not the one drinking from Keith, but he feels like his lack of action led to this. He did this. And he can fix it.

He’s wasting time.

“Florona.” His voice breaks, and he resists his urge to break down, the sting of his eyes.

He swallows, forces his voice to stay steady, hates that he is betraying her and himself by doing this. All of this is happening because he wants to go into Altea. All of this is happening because of him. And now, he needs to take advantage of the skill that really makes him a Vampire and use it against the person who, until now, made him feel the most Human. He needs to become the creature he wants to not be.

His hands tremble as he clears his throat. His voice is barely a whisper. “Stop!”

She blinks at him, and then she shakes her head. It’s like she’s telling him to try again. Or is she telling him to stop?

He swallows back whatever threatens to come up his throat. _You need to do this_. _You can do this._ If he could see himself, he knows his eyes glow red. He feels powerful, magic in his veins, strength in his voice: “Stop interfering.”

The barrier falls quietly.

Florona continues staring at Lance, and though her eyes seem just the slightest bit hazy, she says, “Don’t stake him.”

Is she okay? Has he hurt her?

Lance forces his worries about her to the back of his mind. He forces himself not to think about the fact that he just used Compulsion. They’re all in a dangerous situation here, and if he hadn’t been trying to get into Altea, if he’d just let Keith head to Daibazaal the way he wanted. . .

Hands shaking and knees weak, Lance picks up the weapon.

The silver of the stake makes his hand sting like he’s touching acid, and he moves into a position to throw it. He’s never been more thankful for his skill in distance attacks relative to close-range ones, and, with a smirk (because he knows he can hit Sendak, he’s _that good_ ), he propels the stake toward Keith and Sendak, dashing toward Keith to catch him and pull him to safety in the fallout.

It would have been hoping for too much if the stake hit Sendak’s heart, considering that Keith is standing in the way, but the stake does hit, embedding itself into Sendak’s shoulder. He almost hears the sizzling of the silver burning its way through Vampire skin and muscle.

Sendak pulls himself away from Keith to pull the stake free. His teeth drag on Keith’s neck, tearing the skin open, and the smell of blood is so much stronger as more flows free. Lance’s eyes home in on the bright red as it stains Keith’s white skin. He’s entranced by the trail it leaves, almost shimmering in the lighting of the cave, and he wants to press his tongue to Keith’s skin and lick that blood away.

(It’s being wasted wasted _wasted_.)

Keith stumbles, paler and blood cascading from his neck, flowing heavily enough that it has soiled the collar of his jacket. _Oh_ , Keith’s blood would be so smooth in his mouth, still hot as he laps it up from Keith’s neck. Keith would press his body flush against Lance’s, press his neck harder to Lance’s mouth, and the taste would be _divine_. The scarlet red would be everywhere, smeared on Lance’s lips as he takes his fill.

What a _waste_.

He doesn’t think he can breathe with Keith so close.

How much blood has Keith lost? There’s only so much a Vampire can drink before feeling full, and there’s only so much a Human can lose before falling unconscious. With Keith near him, he can smell the open bite wound at his neck, the places where the skin has torn and the blood has spilled. Despite already drinking Hunk’s blood, he wants to bite.

“What took you so long?” Keith grumbles, managing to sound irritated despite how tired he must be. Classic Keith.

“Watch over Florona,” Lance instructs, keeping his eyes on Sendak. He seems pleased to have a stake in his hand, and his wounded shoulder is healing. It’s frustrating how quickly Sendak is recovering from even wounds of silver—when they fought previously, Keith’s minor stabs put Lance out of commission for a short while.

Keith, despite his weakened state, scowls. He’s not even trying to cover the marks on his neck anymore, and Lance tries not to stare. “You need me here.”

Lance bites back a dry laugh. Keith is still Keith, at least. “What, you’re going to fight a Vampire like that?” His voice is pinched, but he’s holding his breath.

_He still has enough blood to give you._

“Better than letting two Vampires—”

“Keith!” he exclaims, pretending to be scandalized.

Keith shoots him a dirty look. “I’m still okay to fight.”

“I can handle him without you.” But uncertainty bubbles.

“Can you even stake him?”

“I went to the Garrison, _too_ ,” he snaps, as though he hadn’t just worried about the same thing. He wants to make a snide comment about Keith’s arrogance, but he decides not to push it this time. What, did Keith _forget_ that Lance was a Hunter? _Forget_ that Lance is a Vampire now? _Forget_ that he knows what he’s doing?

Before Keith can respond, Sendak is rushing toward them both. Keith ducks out of the way with less grace than usual, reflexes a little slower as he moves to lean against the cave wall for support. The crystals glow around him, accentuating how pale he’s become. Lance catches Sendak’s punch. The force behind Sendak’s hit reverberates through his body.

Despite drinking Hunk’s blood, Lance doesn’t think he’s as strong as Sendak, and hand-to-hand isn’t his strongest fighting tactic. The other Vampire is more arrogant, more powerful, now that he has Keith’s blood in him. If Keith’s blood tastes as good as it smells, perhaps he has a right to be.

As though reading Lance’s thoughts, Sendak smirks. There is still blood on his lips. They’re still holding the same position, Sendak’s fist in Lance’s hand. “You are unnecessary for the Galra.”

Sendak uses more of his strength to force Lance back, punching forward so Lance’s bones feel like they’ll fracture, and his body aches at the impact.

Lance barely has time to recover before Sendak is jumping toward Lance again, a gleam in his eye and a lot more power in his punch. He visualizes where he thinks Sendak’s hit will land and ducks out of the way and into a crouched position. He feels the air brushing past his face as he moves, letting out a huge sigh of relief at the miss though he staggers at the pressure.

They both rely on their Vampire speeds to dart at each other, blocking and parrying hits too quickly for Lance to keep track. The two Vampires are a blur of movement as they attack each other.

Each hit makes Lance stagger and ache. The sounds—their running, their hits, their falls, their dodges—echo through the caves. Their speed is comparable, but the difference in their strength is clear as the fight continues.

Lance is smaller, and he doesn’t practice with his Vampire instincts like he could. He rarely feeds, and right now he’s had essentially a large swallow of stale blood compared to Sendak’s feast of fresh blood. He doesn’t think it’s possible to win this fight without a weapon, and even with one, he’s never _staked_ a Vampire before.

Sendak runs forward again—his punches are his most powerful means of fighting, and Lance is good at dodging them—but this time, the stake he’d pulled from his shoulder is poised for use in his other hand, carving a mark into Lance’s cheek as he evades the punch.

He can’t help his scream, and as he’s stumbling, he sees Sendak ready to force the stake into him.

Before he can, Keith is moving into their sprawl, steadying Lance with one arm and holding out a stake to threaten Sendak backward so Lance has a moment to recover.

“I thought you had it handled,” Keith taunts, dragging Lance back.

“I was testing you!” Lance touches the cut on the right side of his face, hissing at the sting, at the blood dripping down his neck and on his fingers. It _burns_ , like there’s a poison trying to leech its way out of the metal and into his body, grasping at his veins, _destroying_ him. He can’t imagine what it feels like to have the stake lodged in his body.

His wound doesn’t heal as quickly as Sendak’s wounds have. He wants to spring back into the fight before Sendak attacks first, but Keith grabs Lance’s arm.

“Wait! You fought distance.” Keith fumbles with the pockets of his belt, taking Lance’s hand and dumping several throwing stars in his palm.

“ _Shit_ , warn someone before you do that!” Lance’s palm stings at the contact with the silver, and he glares at Keith, though Keith simply shrugs and turns his focus back to Sendak. “Why do you even have these?” Keith’s scores at distance attacks weren’t as amazing as his hand-to-hand combat scores. He would’ve pointed his own scores out to Keith, if Keith had bothered to give him even a moment of his time. Of course, Keith was too good to talk to people below him in the Garrison.

Keith looks unimpressed with Lance’s commentary. “Does it matter?”

“Well, no, but—”

Sendak, of course, hears their exchange and chooses that moment to charge forward and punch at Keith, eyes on Lance as Keith trips in his attempt to move out of the way.

“Immor—”

“Nope nope nope!” Lance shouts, taking advantage of his ability to talk, the volume of his voice. He’s not about to let Sendak Compel anyone again. If Florona conjures another barrier they’re not going to make it. He’ll have to shout as loudly as he can when Sendak wants to talk.

He wishes he had thought of this sooner. But he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away, earlier.

 _Because you wanted a taste_.

“Your weapons won’t help you,” Sendak finally says, sneering when it is clear his attempts at Compulsion won’t work. He’s much taller, more formidable than before. Keith seems to be struggling with something, stiff as he moves through Sendak’s hits but making no offensive decisions of his own.

Lance runs toward the pair then yanks Keith backward, pulling them both out of Sendak’s reach. He manages a kick strong enough to knock Sendak backward, buying them some time. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t. . .” Keith nearly falls, but Lance holds him in place. He tries not to let his worry show, but Keith is startlingly unsteady. He stares anywhere but at Keith’s neck, focusing on Sendak instead. “I can’t fight him!”

“Not so confident anymore, _Keith_?” He moves away from Keith so the fight doesn’t drag him into it, ducking out of the path of Sendak’s immediate retaliation punch. He exhales, swiping a leg out to unbalance Sendak, then dashes back to Keith to check on him again.

“Shut up!” Keith moves behind Lance, and now that they’re this close, he sounds much more tired. Lance can hear his breathing, and he holds his own breath so he isn’t forced to smell Keith’s injury. “I’m. . . I think I’m Compelled.”

He can’t resist saying, “So you’re _useless_?”

Keith rolls his eyes and presses the stake into Lance’s hands, and Lance grits his teeth, so he doesn’t complain about the sting of the silver this time. “ _You_ stake him then, since you’re so _useful_.”

The reality hits him, then, and his false confidence wavers. “I’ve never—”

“I’ll distract him.”

Lance doesn’t give Keith the chance to elaborate, running back toward Sendak and kicking Sendak’s chest when he has the opening. “No, you won’t! Go check on Florona!”

His first star manages to hit Sendak’s arm again, embedding itself into his skin with an audible hiss. Sendak licks his lips as he tugs it out of his body. The wound closes fast, but as it is closing, Lance throws another star, this time at Sendak’s face. It lodges into Sendak’s cheek, just below his missing eye, and Lance sees the blood as it drips from the new wound before it begins to close again.

Sendak shouts this time, and Lance uses his distraction to speed toward him and force him downward. He has to stake this Vampire.

(Florona specifically asked him not to, though.)

He tries to get the stake into Sendak’s chest, pressing it down down _down_ , but just as it penetrates the skin, Sendak throws him so violently Lance _smashes_ against the stone wall.

He feels the glass vials at his side shatter, the dampness soaking through the pouch.

 _Shit_. Hunk’s blood. . .

Though his head is aching and his vision is blurring, he yanks open the pouch, desperate to see if anything is salvageable. Can he at least try to drink the blood now? Is it too late? Bits of glass and blood are mixed together, and he bites back the sob building in his throat as he tosses them aside. He needs to get them out of this, he needs to be stronger and faster and _better_.

Keith is at Lance’s side, again, reaching to help him up. (Of course Keith wouldn’t listen to Lance’s simple instructions. He’s always running and doing his own thing.) Lance’s gaze sticks to the bite at Keith’s neck, the blood still dripping from the torn skin, the ugly wound. He licks his lips.

He stands slowly, putting more weight on Keith than he’d like. If he drinks just a little, he’d be strong enough to finish this. If he drinks, he can stop being _useless_. He’ll free them all, he’ll save Keith and Florona, he’ll finish this.

His vision is dark around the edges. He wants to close his eyes. His body might heal better if he’s unconscious, or maybe he’d die and have temporary, ill-timed relief. He leans his face toward Keith’s neck—

“ _Lance!_ ”

He misses everything Keith says.

“What?”

“Florona can put up a barrier.” Keith lowers his voice, “If we kill him.”

There’s killing a Vampire and staking a Vampire. Killing is temporary, as only a silver stake through the heart can truly end a Vampire’s life. Killing a Vampire involves wounding a Vampire in a fatal Human way, quick enough that the body dies before healing.

“You talked to her?” He knows he sounds disbelieving but considering how little Keith tried to interact with her before, he has a right to be. He glances back at Florona, and she stares at him, unblinking.

“Sort of?”

“What ‘ _sort_ of?’ We can’t leave her here!”

“She _offered_ , and—”

Lance shoots Keith a dirty look. “She’s not here because she wants to be.”

“But she—”

Lance screams, cutting off Keith’s reply as a silver throwing star lodges deep in his leg. He wants to rip off his leg instead of dealing with this, he wants to never be hit with silver again. His breath comes out in heavy pants, and his mind feels foggy. The Hunter from the day prior didn’t throw as hard as Sendak.

“ _Shit_!” Keith exclaims, leaning toward Lance. The cut on his face hasn’t healed yet, and now his leg feels like it’s on fire. “Are you. . .” He doesn’t hear what Keith is saying, his eyes narrowing on Keith’s neck again, where some blood has started to dry (though there’s still more than enough blood trickling to tease him) and it would be so easy to _bite_.

His head continues to pound, his leg burns, his cheek aches.

_Just drink, he’s right there, he wants you to drink. You’re meant to do this._

Trembling, Lance wrenches the silver star from his thigh, letting the burning ache haze his mind. He squeezes his hand around the weapon in his hand, standing steady. Sendak isn’t attacking them, merely watching. Considering something.

“You were the one freed,” Sendak says, suddenly. His eye glints.

“What?”

“Zarkon’s witch Turned you, but the experiment was a failure.” Lance can’t breathe, he can’t think, he’s frozen, he’s back there again—

 _“There isn’t much time,” the voice says, “I can distract them, but you need to leave the capital.”_  

_Lance’s wrists drop, limp without the chains holding him up against the wall. His throat is too dry to speak, his legs too weak to support him. He can’t stand on his own without falling._

_“Wh—” He coughs and chokes, falling into the other Vampire’s chest. He doesn’t want to touch this person; he doesn’t want to be near anyone from here. He can smell the blood on this person’s coat, blood he hasn’t had in so long (he isn’t sure how long he’s been here, can’t be sure how long he’s been this creature)._

_“She’ll be waiting for you.”_

—“And one of our misguided Vampires let you go.”

Lance stands taller, ignoring the way Keith looks at him. Now Keith knows Lance was a reject of even the Galra, a useless, weak, failed experiment of a Vampire. He can’t show that this affects him. It isn’t the time, and this isn’t the audience.

“I don’t need another Vampire to enter Altea.” Sendak chooses then to pounce, harshly shoving Keith aside in favor of pressing his arm against Lance’s neck, cutting off his breathing. “Just the Immortals.”

He feels himself getting light-headed as Sendak presses harder. Lance wonders if the bones of his neck would break. If he dies now, he doesn’t know when he’ll wake up again, and it might be too late. He can’t let Sendak hurt Florona or Keith again. He’s not going to make things easy for them.

Mind hazy and vision blurry, he remembers the weapons in his hands. With a cry, Lance digs the silver star into Sendak’s arm. Sendak screeches at the silver digging into his skin, relinquishing his tight hold at Lance’s throat, loosening his grip just enough that Lance can inhale more air.

He sucks in a breath, then kicks Sendak back with all of his strength.

As he gasps for air, he glances around the cave floor, ideas filtering through his head as he considers his options. They don’t have a lot of time, at this rate. Exhaling in relief when he spots one of the discarded stakes, he rushes toward it before Sendak can retaliate or recognize what he’s done. He grabs the stake and some stars he notices as well, luck finally playing in his favor.

But Keith is breathing hard, leaning against one of the glowing crystals of the cave like he might fall without it. The crystal’s glow accentuates how pale he is, how much blood he must have lost. He’s still fighting despite his weakness, but he looks exhausted.

And Florona stands not too far away from them, watching. _Stop interfering_ , he told her. She’s not going to put up a barrier to help them, because she can’t, but at least she won’t conjure one to hurt them, either. Instead, she watches, a key reason to their failures.

Lance’s leg hasn’t fully healed, so putting weight on it definitely aches, but he is determined. He has one shot.

Sendak turns to face him, ready to attack again. With a loud cry, desperation in his movements, Lance throws a silver star at Sendak’s face again. Though Sendak looks pained, it is temporary, and the wound is closing fast.

As he positions for his counterattack, Lance aims another star at Sendak’s neck, just at the jugular where the important veins are. He watches the silver fly, hears it hit its mark and penetrate deeper than he expected. Blood gushes out, the wound bleeding a little before starting to close.

Sendak shouts and stumbles back. Lance uses the small moment of debilitation to pounce, forcing himself forward through the splitting pain in his leg, and when they both crash downward, Lance shoves the stake down and into Sendak’s chest.

Staking is much harder than he’s expecting, and he has to put all his strength to get it past Sendak’s ribs while he tries to force Lance away. Before Lance is thrown back again, the pleasant smell of Keith’s blood becomes overpowering.

Lance sucks in a breath, forcing himself to focus. Keith is trying to recapture Sendak’s attention by using his blood, since he can’t _fight_ Sendak, and it’s _working_. It’s enough distraction that Lance can do what he needs to do.

Sendak turns his head in Keith’s direction, and the movement jostles the star at his throat, reopening the healed cut. He feels Sendak stop struggling, dying the way a Human would because of a fatal stab wound.

He presses the stake further, hitting Sendak’s heart and stopping it, Vampire blood staining the stake, but he stops before the stake penetrates fully. Florona needs Sendak alive, doesn’t she? He doesn’t let the stake stab Sendak’s heart all the way through.

As much as he would like for it to happen, Sendak doesn’t begin to crumble as gray ash.

He has died, but he will live again.

For a moment, no one moves. It’s deathly silent, and the anxiousness and sickness in Lance builds and builds.

Did he do it? Did he protect them?

When Sendak doesn’t immediately get up, it feels as though a tension in the air has been lifted. Lance stands and backs away from Sendak slowly, ready to attack if necessary. As the seconds tick by, he relaxes little by little. He has never seen a Vampire in this position, though they discussed it in the Garrison frequently enough. It’s strange to see a Vampire like this, lying still as though sleeping but without breathing, in temporary death.

Lance exhales in audible relief. “We don’t have a lot of time.” He has no idea how long the regeneration time is after temporary death, but he doesn’t think they’ll survive if they wait to find out.

Florona had been standing quietly and out of the way of the fighting, and now she seems torn about what she’s going to do. “I-I’m sorry,” she whispers, at a volume only Lance can hear. He snaps his head toward her.

She erects a barrier, forcing them back and then away from Sendak.

“Florona!”

What is she doing? Her barrier blocks them from Sendak (from _her_ ). He grabs Keith’s sleeve to ensure they aren’t separated again. They both end up supporting each other so they don’t fall over as Florona’s magic continues to press them toward one of the cave’s paths.

 _Stop fighting_ , and she can’t contradict something that forwards Sendak’s goals. _Stop interfering_ , and she did nothing to get in his way. Neither command stops her from doing this.

She’s making them leave. She could _die_. Lance bangs a fist on the barrier, wishing he was strong enough to break through. Thankfully she hasn’t created an electric barrier. She’s forcing Lance away.

“Florona. . .”

She won’t meet his eyes. _Stop interfering_ , he’d said. But this is different, isn’t it?

“I’m not leaving you here!”

He feels Keith’s eyes on him, gaze too intense, and he pretends not to notice. “Lance—”

“I’ll Compel you!”

She’s not looking at him at all.

“Florona!”

Not for the first time, he wonders what happened in the Baku Gardens, what happened to Florona and to Luxia. Lance wonders what he would do in Florona’s place, if his own family were at stake. He and Hunk had talked about this in the Garrison so long ago, when Rolo had given weapons to the Vampires. Nyma had supported him through it. Lance can support Florona.

What else can he do?

“We have to move,” Keith says, voice cold. Lance lets himself get pulled by Keith, though his strength isn’t enough to budge any Vampire. He doesn’t let his eyes break away from Florona, watching as she and Sendak fade from view.

They head down the cavern. The more time passes, the hungrier Lance gets from the energy he expends to heal, the weaker Keith seems to be.

In fact, Keith appears very tired, breathing fast as he walks. His collar is stained dark red, heavy with blood that hasn’t quite stopped spilling. His neck is a mess of torn skin and bite marks and blood, ruined further when Keith dug his own fingers into his wound so Sendak would look at him.

Lance wonders if he should point out Keith’s fatigue, and he thinks he would, in any other situation, when he could make a joke of it to lighten the tension. But this is hardly the time to poke fun, when he knows Keith is tired because of Lance’s own weakness, because he hadn’t been able to stop Sendak from feeding. He wasn’t able to stake Sendak without Keith injuring himself further. Keith was _willing_ to hurt himself.

He thinks of his siblings, of the way they cared for him when he was in pain. He wanted to be a Hunter so he could give back, and now he’s a Vampire and all he does is _take_. When Keith pauses for a break, before he loses his nerve, Lance says, “Let me help.”

Keith blinks. Then he blinks again. He proceeds to speed up his pace. “I can walk faster.”

“Not fast enough!” Lance easily keeps pace with Keith. _Let me help you, please_.

“Faster than you!” Keith doesn’t sound angry, though, just competitive. The bantering helps ease some of his worries; Keith can’t be too injured if he has the energy to argue.

He is not, of course, faster than Lance—Lance is a _Vampire_ , Keith has no hope of outrunning him—but Lance lets Keith speed forward until he tires more. It isn’t long before he’s leaning against a pink crystal for a quick break, his face clearly displaying his exhaustion. Lance holds his own breath as he stands closer to Keith.

“You’re missing the point.”

Keith stares at Lance expectantly. He’s back to not making eye contact, and Lance doesn’t know how to feel. He should have expected it; this is Keith, after all.

“C’mon.” He let this happen, and the least he can do is help with this. “I think we should move faster.”

“I’m too slow.”

“Yeah.” When Keith doesn’t say anything, Lance continues, “It’s no big deal.” Their best chance is to escape with Lance’s speed rather than wander at a Human pace. There’s no telling what Sendak and Florona are doing now, when they’ll catch up, if they’re trying to follow. Keith’s pace (and the smell of his blood) are creating an obvious path toward them. “You’re just not a Vampire.”

He says it as though being a Vampire is something beneficial. It isn’t.

“I get it,” Keith interrupts. His voice is bitter. There’s a long pause between them, where Keith is appraising him, considering his options. “We need to warn the Alteans about them. Should I. . . lean on you?”

Lance remembers joking with Keith when their journey started, saying he could carry Keith if _walking got too hard_. “I was thinking more along the lines of. . .” Well, he didn’t think _this_ would be how it happened, didn’t think he’d actually have to carry Keith. He doesn’t even know how to say it. “Me. . . doing all the running.”

But there is a certain comfort in being held that Lance thinks he can provide now, even if it is to _Keith_.

“You’d really want. . .” Keith’s fiddling with his belt, biting his lip. There’s a light flush to his cheeks. “To touch me?”

 _Wait, what_? Lance’s face warms much faster than he thinks possible. “Don’t. . . Don’t _say_ it like _that_!”

Keith doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong in what he said, ignorant of Lance’s thoughts, continuing, “If it makes you feel better.”

“This is for _you_ , mullet.” His voice sounds normal, but he doesn’t want to think about what happened, why they’re in this mess at all. The guilt tugs at his heart. He needs to make this normal again. “ _You_ finally get the chance to be this close to _me_.”

Keith presses his collar to the wound at his neck, shivering. Lance’s throat is so dry, his body achingly hungry for what Keith has to offer. Though Lance keeps his expression neutral, Keith essentially reads his mind when he says, “I should, uhh, keep this away from you.”

Lance makes a point to dramatically roll his eyes, waving off the concern. “ _Please_.”

(Please keep your blood away; _I won’t be able to help myself._ )

He lets Keith climb onto his back, arms wrapped around Lance’s neck, wound so _tantalizingly_ close to Lance. It’s still bleeding readily, worse since Keith dug his fingers into it, but Lance is doing a good job of breathing through his mouth, holding his breath at the right times. Keith gasps softly when he settles.

His heart beats a little faster, and he feels warm being so close to Keith.

Lance positions them both so he can run at a good speed. He can’t go as fast as he’d like, since it might be too much for Keith to handle.

“Are you really okay?” Lance asks, waiting for the right moment before speeding off.

“Take this path.” Keith sighs, sagging so he presses more snugly against Lance. Lance knows better, but it’s as though Keith is doing this on purpose to fluster him. “Yeah.”

They’re both tired, that’s for sure. Lance hasn’t been this tired in a long time, and he can’t imagine how Keith is feeling. Sendak is huge, and he’d taken more than a fair share of Keith’s blood before they’d been forced apart.

He tries not to think about it.

“Are you okay?” Keith’s voice is very soft, but there’s every bit of the passion Lance is used to hearing from Keith. “Left here.”

“Sure.” He doesn’t know if he’s lying or just answering Keith’s instructions. “I’m _fine_.”

He runs through the caves as fast as he can, but the smell of Keith’s blood is like a blazing trail straight toward them, a signal toward Altea, if Keith’s instincts through the caves are accurate. He doesn’t know how much more blood Keith can lose before it’s no longer safe.

Balancing Keith on his back with one hand and slowing down just a little, Lance sighs—he remembers sitting in that cell, forced to drink from that Galra Vampire’s wrist, his wounds closing and healing before they struck new marks into him, to _test_ something—and he pulls up his sleeve and bites hard into his wrist, drawing blood. The action didn’t look painful when the Galra had done it, but Lance’s wrist _stings_ and the sound of his teeth breaking his skin isn’t pretty.

“Drink this.” Lance is thankful he doesn’t have to look at Keith’s face. He knows Keith knows what comes with drinking a Vampire’s blood. His wounds will heal. He’ll feel better. But if he dies within the next day, he’ll reawaken as a Vampire. Sometimes the risk isn’t worth it, but Keith is not going to die, and the smell of his blood is too risky, the continuous drip of blood too dangerous.

“I. . . _No_.”

“Now isn’t the time to argue!” He can’t see Keith’s face, but he can perfectly imagine the expression Keith might be making. “Let me do this for you.” He sounds more desperate, more pleading, than he’d like.

“I, umm.” A long, awkward pause builds between them, and then Keith clears his throat. “Do you need to drink, first?”

Lance doesn’t say anything, continuing to run. He’s not going there. He’s not letting his thoughts go there.

“From me,” Keith clarifies.

 _Yes_. He wants to drink from Keith so badly, he wants to sink his fangs into Keith’s willing neck and just. . . _Please_.

 _He’s offering,_ take _him_.

His fangs feel sharper in his mouth, his blood running hot at the thought. If he drinks, he’ll be so much faster. If he drinks, he can protect Keith the way he hadn’t before. If he drinks, maybe he’ll stop fantasizing about the taste, the feeling, of this Hunter. His mind flashes to an image of just holding Keith, afterward.

Lance laughs, a mix of nerves and high-pitched falsities. “Why would I want to drink from you?”

“Oh.”

The wound on Lance’s wrist closes. Lance bites down again, reopening it.

“The middle path,” Keith says at last, and Lance is quick to follow the instruction. “With the blue crystal.”

“Keith.” He does the best he can to look at Keith despite their positions, to convey how important it is that Keith drink. Keith sees something in Lance’s expression, and then he nods.

Keith’s hand is warm on his arm as he leans forward (his neck is so _close_ Lance just wants to change their positions and throw Keith to the cave wall and _drink_ ). Keith’s lips are soft and his tongue is hot and he brushes his mouth so very gently across the wound on Lance’s skin. He feels the slightest touch of Keith’s lips on his open wrist, but he doesn’t notice the feeling of blood being taken from him.

A chill sweeps through Lance’s body at the action, and he roughly jostles Keith on his back to try and detract from the feelings burning within him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this worth the wait idek, but let me know your thoughts?? Keith be bleedin' everywhere and Lance is suffering hmmm (this is why I needed a [beta](http://mushroomgarden144p.tumblr.com) haha but at least the [art](http://tiburme.tumblr.com) is pretty!)
> 
> Also I'm still forever thinking about s6 I woke up early just to watch it and I'm so curious everyone's opinions. :') feel free to message me on [tumblr](http://ssuppositiouss.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thanks for reading!! :'D


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